


Florissant

by Yilena



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demons, F/M, Fantasy, Magic, Minor Character Death, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 00:44:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20480189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yilena/pseuds/Yilena
Summary: Marinette's life was going okay. Her powers were a secret, her cat was alive, and her love-life was thriving for the first time in a while. When it's revealed that a demon attends her university, it all spirals from there. AU.





	Florissant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gardenoftacos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardenoftacos/gifts).

> Tami! I hope you enjoy this. It's pretty easy-going, filled with fluff, magic, and not much drama. It drove me a bit mad towards the end (as I'm sure you can tell), but I really do hope this meets your expectations after such a wait.

_Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir © Thomas Astruc_

It was a Tuesday when they met.

Marinette had her headphones around her neck, busy selecting a song on her phone before putting them on, walking out of the entrance of the university.

It was then that she'd heard a call of her name, and she curiously looked over her shoulder to see her friend jumping on the spot, excitedly waving and calling her over.

With a smile, she put the device in her pocket, closing the distance with what could've been classed as a jog. Alya was grinning the whole time, clearly very excited, and each movement caused her red-coloured hair to sway, becoming more animated with every passing second.

“What's up?” Marinette greeted her.

Alya's boyfriend, Nino, shrugged.

After lightly punching his arm, disapproving of his response, Alya asked, “Want to come and get some lunch with us?”

With a hum, Marinette made a show of contemplating about it. “How far are we talking here?” she questioned. “Because if I have to walk for twenty minutes again, you can count me out.”

When she'd befriended the two of them at the start of the year, it was only because she'd bumped into Alya on the campus before, the both of them lost and confused on where to go. They didn't share any classes, rarely saw each other, and the places they were living while studying were opposite directions.

It was only because the two of them were witty while texting that they were still talking.

Nino laughed. “Not that far, I swear.”

She squinted. “Promise?”

“Totally, dude,” he offered. “Adrien's finally free enough to meet up, but Alya wants some moral support, apparently.”

Being friends for a while meant that she'd learned all about Nino's best friend, but she hadn't had the opportunity to meet him.

Marinette placed a hand over her heart as she gasped dramatically. “You mean you don't want me there?”

“You know what? No, I don't.” Then, as he gestured for her to go away, he said, “Begone.”

Her smile reached her eyes. “I don't think so, buddy.”

“Great!” Alya exclaimed, stepping away from his side to link her arm through Marinette's. “Let's go, then.”

It wasn't a twenty minute walk, thankfully. It was a café near the campus, one that was a little dingy and had an ugly menu, but the drinks looked lovely by the time they arrived. Alya was taking a picture of the three drinks pushed in the middle of the table—swatting any wandering hands away as she tried to get the best shot—when Adrien joined them.

Instead of either of them noticing and ushering him over, it was him coming up to the table and saying, “What the hell, man?”

Nino held up his fingers in a peace sign.

She'd seen pictures of Adrien before, but seeing how tall he was in person while he was standing there, glaring at his friend, was a different matter.

Then, as he sat down in the only remaining seat at the table—which happened to be beside her—Adrien turned to look at her and immediately proclaimed, “I don't know you.”

And as he gasped in pain, she had to assume that one of them had kicked him under the table.

Her bets were on Alya.

“Marinette,” she announced, pointing to her face. “New friend and all that. Hi.”

“New isn't the right word,” Nino corrected. “Come on, dude. You've been seeing pictures of her for a while.”

Adrien snapped his fingers. “That's why you looked familiar!”

“You literally said you don't know her,” Alya pointed out.

“Because I don't,” he insisted before sticking his hand out, intending for her to shake it. “It's nice to meet you, Marinette. I've heard a lot about you.”

She shook his hand a bit awkwardly. “Can't say the same about you.”

He laughed. “They've been telling you awful things?”

“Nothing at all,” Alya interjected. “Because you're never here on time, _ever_. What held you up today?”

He propped his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands. “What if I said it was the nerves of finally meeting the marvellous Marinette?”

“No flirting,” Nino scolded. “And don't try and lie.”

“Well, I really am nervous about meeting her,” he insisted. Adrien then turned his head to the side, towards her, and explained with a grin, “They've been keeping us apart because they're terrified that I'll scare you away.”

She quipped, “Sure it's not the other way around?”

His smile grew. “Maybe.”

“Maybe,” she agreed. “I guess we'll find out.”

By the time their food arrived, her cheeks were already hurting from smiling. Adrien had turned his chair a little to face her better, making it very apparent that he wasn't opposed to talking with her, and the type of conversations the four of them had were ridiculous and barely serious. It ranged from a petty argument that Marinette chimed in with her opinion, causing Alya to make a horrified noise, before moving onto a topic that was just as stupid.

It turned out that Adrien's sense of humour meshed with hers well.

Nino had choked on his drink at one point, face turning red as he coughed, while everyone else was still laughing and trying to console him.

Alya patting his back only made it worse for all of them.

When Adrien asked about a scratch on her arm, it opened up a whole new dimension to their conversation, much to the loud disappointment of Alya.

“Yeah, I've got a cat,” Marinette happily confirmed. “Alya's just salty because she's allergic.”

Alya helpfully pointed out, “I sneeze when I hug you sometimes.”

“You have to suffer for things you love,” she replied. “Like me.”

“I'd absolutely suffer for that,” Adrien announced. “Not that I'm allergic or anything—just very deprived of pets all of my life. Please, let me live through you.”

She grinned. “I have pictures, if you want to see them?”

His expression visibly brightened. “Really?”

“Of course,” she said, already getting her phone out. The pictures for her lockscreen and background were already of her cat, but she opened up her gallery and found clearer ones first. “This is Tami.”

Adrien gently placed his hand by hers, angling the phone so he could have a better view. The picture was a recent one; Tami was lounging across her bed, stretching her paws out and looking very content, and her black fur stood out against the sheet.

His smile reached his eyes. “She's lovely.”

“Right?” Marinette beamed. “I have a lot more—”

Nino snapped his fingers. “No, no. We're not doing this right now.”

Marinette shot him a dirty look. “Just because you've already seen all of these—”

“I regret inviting you now,” Alya said, but she wasn't sincere at all. “Stop seducing Adrien with your cat. He's practically salivating right now.”

Adrien raised his thumb. “It's the best way into my heart.”

“Not food?” Marinette questioned.

“No one's really cooked for me, so I can't say yes or no to that,” he mused. “Unless you're offering to cover my part of the bill—”

She shook her head. “No, no.”

He pouted in an exaggerated manner. “That's a shame.”

“Stop whoring yourself out,” Alya suggested. “Marinette can do much better than you.”

“I don't know,” Marinette replied. “He seems pretty out of my league right now.”

“Yeah, because you're a lot better than me,” Adrien interjected. “I haven't heard anything bad about you. But now that I know you've got an adorable cat? I could only be so lucky to ever score a date with you.”

It was nice of him to say, that was for sure, but the way that he said it—complete with him moving his hands as he spoke—made it seem like he was too enthusiastic for what he was talking about.

With a grin, she remarked, “How sweet.”

Nino pretended to gag.

Adrien winked at him.

It was a fun afternoon.

Alya had her face in her hands at one point, shoulders shaking with laughter as she dramatically exclaimed that her life was ruined from Adrien being there. And it just caused more banter around the table, with Nino reaching over and patting her head in such a condescending way that Alya slapped his hand away while pretending to sob.

By the end of it, she had Adrien's number in her phone.

With a smile, he asked, “Can I take a picture of you? For my contacts, I mean.”

Alya had started to say, “You could get one—”

When she said yes, Adrien moved closer, making it so they were almost cheek-to-cheek, not putting any hands on her body, but he was near enough as he raised his phone up, clearly smiling for the camera. It was over in a matter of seconds, and when he turned the device around to show her it, she asked for him to send it to her, too.

She set it as his picture.

Although none of them ordered dessert, they did get more drinks with the intention of staying and chatting until they had to go. They were more than happy to try and explain inside jokes, telling her all about ridiculous things that had happened in the past, and she didn't feel excluded at all throughout it all.

Marinette was the first to leave, though.

It started with a text.

When she saw what the message said, her stomach suddenly felt uncomfortable, mouth dry and feeling as though she was going to vomit at any moment.

“I—” Marinette started before cutting herself off, running a hand through her hair. “I promised I'd help my friend with something, so I've got to go.”

None of them protested, thanking her for coming and ushering her away with smiles, and when Nino and Alya hugged her good-bye, Marinette made the split-second decision to give Adrien one, too, although it was more awkward than the others.

His ears were red as he said good-bye.

The walk back wasn't that bad, but she was walking fast, breaths coming out audibly, and ducking down the alleyway to take shortcuts that she normally would've avoided.

While she hadn't been afraid of not making friends at the university, due to sharing an apartment with her childhood friend that had applied and gotten into the same school, it didn't mean that she was excited about living outside of the dorms in a lacklustre part of the city.

It wasn't that bad, but it wasn't what she'd been used to growing up.

She wasn't as spoiled as Chloé, though.

“Chloé?” Marinette called out as she walked through the front door, almost tripping over her shoes as she took them off.

Chloé's perfectly manicured hand became apparent when she raised it from the sofa, not responding verbally.

The sight would've normally been cute; with Chloé dressed impeccably with her legs up on the sofa, and the blackness of Tami's fur standing out against it all as she slept in her lap, but that wasn't the case that time.

She wasn't breathing.

Marinette sighed. “I didn't even—how could I not _notice_?”

Rather than offer her words of comfort, Chloé's reaction to that was to quickly demand, “Get her the fuck off of me.”

“Rude,” Marinette said, but she wasn't offended.

Gently, she picked her cat's limp body off of her friend's lap. And in a marvellous feat that didn't involve any tears, she carried Tami over to the corner of the room where she had a wicker basket, complete with a cushion and blanket within, and gently placed her inside.

“Oh, _no_,” Chloé moaned. “You're not leaving her here this time. Please, I don't want to look at her while I'm eating.”

“Eat somewhere else, then,” she retorted.

Chloé glowered at her. “I was here first.”

“She's first in my heart,” Marinette countered. “But, fine. I'll take her into my room.”

The basket wasn't heavy to carry.

Tami was the reason that she wasn't living in the university dorms. Her parents were generous enough to cover the expenses of her apartment with Chloé, but when she'd applied to the university, it had always been with the intention of taking her cat along with her.

Her parents were busy most of the day, after all.

Chloé had been living them for years, had been there when Tami had first joined the family as a kitten, and although she pretended not to be fond of her, the fact that Marinette had walked in and seen that Chloé hadn't removed her body from her lap was telling.

It had been a day full of tears for the whole family when Tami had first died.

Once the basket was in her room, she put a blanket over the top of it.

When she walked back outside, Chloé was in the kitchen, easily reaching the very top of the cupboard, using her height to her advantage. When she wasn't home, Marinette had to drag a wobbly chair over and hope for the best when trying to reach their stash.

It was in the form of a large jewellery box, one her parents had gifted the both of them to share when Chloé turned thirteen first, and although it had fallen and became a bit dented, it was still very much treasured.

Chloé opened up the top and made an offended sound. “We're running low.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don't know,” she muttered. “How low is low?”

“Like, one more type of low.”

There was a pause.

Marinette's shoulders sagged. “I'll wait.”

Chloé turned to her with an unreadable expression. “Marinette—”

“I'm not using the last,” she quickly rejected. “What if you need it? It's—I'll be fine, don't worry.”

Rather than comforting her, Chloé chose to point out, “Your bedroom's going to stink.”

“You know that's not true,” Marinette responded. “Anyway, we might get lucky and find a load online.”

Chloé looked like she'd swallowed something sour as she said, “Okay, fine.”

That night, they were scrolling through various sites, checking out amateur jewellery, blogs about spiritual nonsense that neither of them really believed in, and trying their best to figure out whether the items were fake or not. There were a lot of dupes, some that looked similar and easily got confused, or, at times, the original had been spray-painted and it was only the texture that gave it away.

It was something that her parents had taught the two of them other the years, happy that it was an alternative to going to garage sales and antique shops scattered all across the country.

Her phone buzzed.

Momentarily, Marinette was caught off-guard by the sender, before remembering just how friendly Adrien had come across.

Chloé didn't look up from her own phone as she asked, “Who?”

“Alya's friend from earlier,” she offered as her explanation.

Chloé scrunched her face up at that.

While they'd been best friends since they were younger, even before Chloé's parents had passed away and she'd been adopted by her family, it wasn't a secret that Chloé disliked most of Marinette's friends.

And Marinette was fine with that, really. She wasn't young and insecure, wanting Chloé to like all of her friends, and she never tried to force them together.

The few times that Chloé had tagged along with Alya and Nino since meeting them, it hadn't ended up too well. Their sense of humours didn't mesh, and they didn't understand that Chloé's scathing comments weren't mean-hearted.

Not all of them, at least.

And comings to terms with that meant that she'd grown more mature, understood that she couldn't shove all of her friends together in one space, and made it so she didn't get so offended at Chloé's off-handed remarks about them—they were hardly ever meant to be serious, and most of the time, Chloé was just looking to try and get a reaction.

Giving her a blank stare in return was the best response she could give.

“What do they want?” Chloé asked, not able to resist wanting to know everything.

Marinette held one finger up to signal that she needed a moment to respond, tapping away at her screen. And as she did that, Chloé huffed and leaned back against the sofa, crossing her arms over her chest, staring pointedly at her the whole time.

“Impatient,” she chastised. “He's just saying that it was nice meeting me.”

Chloé snorted. “Right.”

“It's called being nice,” Marinette retorted. “Not that you'd know anything about it.”

“I'm nice to those who deserve it,” Chloé primly replied. “And that just so happens not to include many people—maybe, you'll be kicked out soon.”

Marinette made a noise of disagreement. “I don't think you've ever been kind to me.”

“You're living with me, aren't you?”

“My parents are paying for this,” Marinette said, squinting. “You're literally only here because I pitied you in school—”

“Pitied?” Chloé shrieked. “As _if_.”

With a laugh, Marinette corrected herself with, “Okay, fine. You were nice, back then.”

Pacified, Chloé stretched out again, going as far as to put an arm behind her head, looking thoroughly more comfortable than she had only moments ago. “Thank you.”

Her phone vibrated again, indicating another message from Adrien.

Surprised, Marinette replied, amused when he responded just as quickly, but that time with an excessive amount of emojis added on.

It didn't stop at small talk, like she'd expected. While they had gotten on in person, it had been a one time meeting, and Marinette wasn't the best at keeping up conversations over text. She was notorious for forgetting about messages, seeing them again hours later and deeming it too late to reply, or generally thinking that she'd already replied, leaving the other waiting for days at times.

It was a wonder that Alya and Nino had befriended her over text at all.

But Adrien was—he was very enthusiastic with his messages. Sometimes, he only sent a few words, finishing his sentences in the following ones, and always had a load of emojis following, as if to emphasise what he was saying.

They went from confirming that it was each other in a few minutes to him asking to see pictures of Tami—which she happily supplied—and that really caused the beginning awkwardness to fade away in a matter of minutes.

Then, when he messaged her while she was in class the following day, Marinette responded an hour later, saying that she was busy and wouldn't be able to reply for a bit.

His response to that was a sad emoji.

She replied to it when she returned home.

And then, it continued for days. Adrien liked to ask random questions—from her opinion on shows from their childhood to how she felt about specific breeds of fish—and she grew to just go along with his messages, not really questioning them. It was fun, after all, and it wasn't as though he was being terribly invasive and asking about her every move.

He barely prodded her for more information for her days, and she paid him the same respect. To her delight, however, Adrien did tell her embarrassing things about Nino growing up, and it was absolutely great to make Nino groan and put his face into his hands when she brought it up.

“You're so welcome,” Adrien said to that.

She laughed loudly over the phone.

While Alya and Nino both lived in university dorms, Adrien's family rented him an apartment close to the school that he was attending. His lack of concern for money was something that Alya had told her about at first, and since Marinette hadn't actually seen him in person since they'd first met, she hadn't expected it to be so obvious over text.

Until he sent her a picture of at least a dozen slices of cake that he'd bought from an expensive bakery, along with a text whether she wanted to come over and share them with him.

He even offered to pay for her ride.

Marinette took the bus instead.

When she told Chloé where she was going, all she got was a look of jealousy.

It was a long way for cake, but he _had_ messaged her early in the morning, and it was the weekend—she had time to get back, and wouldn't be tired the following day if she stayed out too late. It would work out well, theoretically.

Adrien's apartment building had an elevator going up to his floor.

Hers was broken.

He had flower pots outside his door, the floor of the hallway was clean—no mud pressed into it—and the other apartments had similar personal touches on the outside. There was even an umbrella leaning up against the wall for one.

Then, when she rung the doorbell, she was surprised by how fast it opened.

“Marinette!” Adrien greeted, clearly excited and happy to usher her inside.

While he said that she didn't have to, she took off her shoes after seeing how nice the floor looked.

His kitchen had an island with stools for them to sit at, the cake sitting innocently in the middle of the counter, and he puttered over to the fridge, listing off a as many drinks as he could within a few breaths, not letting her get any words out.

“I don't even remember what you said first,” she blurted.

Adrien slowly smiled, raising a hand to touch his hair. “I spoke too fast, didn't I?”

“A little.”

“Sorry,” he apologised, but it wasn't sincere.

To make it easy, she shrugged and said, “I'll have whatever you're having.”

When they got to the cake, it was definitely worth the trip over. Adrien was more than happy to cut each slice in half, trying to give her the bigger bits, and even asked whether she liked the icing or the toppings more on certain ones, still attempting to give her the best parts.

She appreciated it.

But after they'd finished all the slices, her stomach felt uncomfortably full.

“Why did we do that?” Marinette complained, putting her head on the counter.

It was a wonder that she was comfortable enough to do that after only spending a few hours with him, but there was something about Adrien that made her feel like she'd known him longer. The way he was in texts was the same as in person, easing her nerves, and were able to get along well without any awkward tension between them.

She'd almost choked from laughing at one point.

When Adrien pointed out that she had icing on the corner of her mouth, her face didn't burn from embarrassment—not when he was in much the same situation.

It got late pretty quickly.

Adrien offered to take her home, and while the thought was appreciated, she didn't take him up on it.

“It's fine,” she assured him. “I can catch the last bus. There's no reason for you to go out into the cold.”

Dubiously, he asked, “Are you?”

“Yeah, dude,” Marinette insisted. “I'll text you when I get home, if that'll make you feel better.”

And to her surprise, his expression softened. “I'd like that.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “I—okay.”

Sometimes, she found it exhausting to spend time with someone for so long, but that wasn't the case. By the time she got home, opening up her phone and sending Adrien a message that she'd gotten back, she discovered that she wasn't tired enough to avoid Chloé's pointed looks when she'd walked past the living room, going straight into her room.

She came back out in her pyjamas.

“Go on, then,” Marinette started.

Chloé sniffed. “What?”

“I'm waiting for your questions.”

“Why would I want to know about _you_?” Chloé retorted. Then, with a wave of her hand, she said, “You're boring. I, however, had quite a productive evening.”

There was definitely new polish on her nails.

“It sure looks like it,” Marinette dryly remarked. “Did you even study?”

Chloé raised her middle finger.

“That's a no,” she said with a laugh. “What happened to trying to be a good student?”

“I'm having a self-care day,” Chloé announced, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “That means nothing stressful, so you should leave.”

Marinette just stared at her.

Chloé motioned for her to leave with one hand. “Go on.”

Sighing, Marinette got to her feet, making her way over to her room, “You're literally the worst.”

Right as she closed her door, Chloé called out, “I'm not the one that got bribed across the city with cake!”

She couldn't argue with that.

But the next time Adrien reached out to her, suggesting that they meet up, he didn't have to tempt her with cake.

There wasn't really much thought put into it. Marinette didn't have plans that night, and Adrien asking whether she was free didn't come with any hesitation from her; and while she didn't immediately say yes, she did say that she didn't think she'd be busy.

From there, Alya and Nino were added into the mix.

And then, there was alcohol, too.

She had a headache in the morning, a dozen pictures on her phone, and a new contact picture for Adrien, one of her and him hugging drunkenly.

It came naturally after that.

Adrien tended to be busy throughout the week, saying that he needed to study so he couldn't come across the city, but that didn't mean that he didn't spam her with texts. The constant buzzing of her phone became familiar, along with his name popping up, but she never felt like he was a bother from the amount that they spoke.

He quickly became a close friend.

Naturally, Chloé was sour about that.

“He's stealing you away,” Chloé proclaimed, crossing her arms.

Marinette snorted. “I cancelled on you once.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And I had plans with him first,” she pointed out. “It's not that bad. Besides, you're just bitter that he's prettier than you.”

Chloé sniffed. “Impossible.”

“He really is,” Marinette said, purposely using a hand to fan her face. “You've been knocked off your throne because he's got dimples. How does this make you feel?”

“I'm going to trip you.”

With a laugh, she replied, “That's not very nice.”

“You're a bitch,” Chloé retorted. “You deserve the pain.”

Settling down on the sofa, Marinette bumped her shoulder lightly against Chloé's. “You won't kiss it better?”

“No,” Chloé said without hesitation. “I'll even kick you to make it worse.”

Marinette made a wounded noise. “I'm heartbroken.”

“_Good_.”

-x-

When Adrien met Chloé, it was a Friday.

It was incredibly awkward.

Chloé was in the living room, dressed in her pyjamas, surprise clear across her expression.

Marinette grimaced. “I thought you were out?”

“No,” Chloé said slowly, gaze flickering between her and Adrien, who was quietly standing behind her, clearly unsure of what to do. “That's tomorrow.”

“Well,” Marinette started, rocking on her heels. “This is Adrien.”

“I can tell,” Chloé stated, sounding ever-so-bored and disapproving all at once. And even with her pyjamas on, she managed to look judging as she crossed her arms, staring at the two of them. “Are you really coming in here?”

Beckoning for him to follow her in, Marinette replied, “I can stash him away in my room, if you want.”

“Gross.”

Adrien almost tripped when he took his shoes off. “I can go?”

“No, no,” Marinette insisted, pointing out the direction for her bedroom. “Ignore her, this is normal—”

“Marinette,” Chloé called out loudly. “You're forgetting something.”

Confusion was clear in her voice. “I am?”

“Yes,” Chloé slowly said. “Tami's sleeping in there.”

It had completely skipped her mind. It wasn't common that she had someone come over to their apartment as it was, and for him to forget such a crucial bit of information was telling for how comfortable she was with him.

It was almost a disaster.

“Shit, yeah,” she breathed, wide-eyed. “I—we'll join you here, then.”

Before she could even get near the sofa, Chloé got to her feet, leaving the room without another word. She did make sure to stare at Adrien on her way out, though.

When Marinette turned to look at Adrien, he was touching the back of his neck. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Chloé's always like that,” she explained with a wave of her hand. “Prickly is a good word, I guess. She treats Alya and Nino the same.”

He frowned. “No, I—I mean, because we're not going into your room.”

“Eh?”

There was a brief pause.

Then, Adrien quietly asked, “Do you not want me to see Tami?”

She might've been a bit hasty inviting him over.

But Adrien had been such a good friend, and they'd agreed to meet up outside, only for it to rain horribly—and it was only natural that she offered her home since she lived near, right? That was her trail of thought at the time, and it hadn't even crossed her mind that she was harbouring her cat's corpse in her bedroom.

That wasn't normal at all.

Marinette wanted—she'd always wanted to blend in with others, to be as normal as she could be, and her cat was only a little thing that made her different.

If someone saw Tami, it would be a disaster.

Even if that was someone as nice as Adrien.

“She's not feeling well,” Marinette blurted out. “She—she threw up a lot this morning, and I don't want to bother her, you know? Any other day would be fine.”

His expression softened. “Is she okay?”

Her throat felt a little tight. “I hope so.”

It wasn't a secret that she was terrible at lying, but either—either Adrien didn't know her well enough, or wanted to believe that it was true.

After all, who would lie about their pet being ill?

The following days involved Adrien asking whether Tami felt better and asking to see pictures of her. Marinette was normally happy to show pictures of her beloved pet, but when her cat was stiff and close to rotting while in her bed in her room, she couldn't just snap a new picture with her camera.

And she'd shown him a lot of her old ones.

Marinette was stressed out about how kind and interested he was.

Alya and Nino weren't invested in her cat, barely asked about her, and that was fine. It worked out well, really, and she couldn't have asked for a better dynamic for their relationship.

But Adrien—Adrien asked about all parts of her day, making his interests known, and while she would've been happy to answer them all before, that wasn't the case at that moment.

Chloé made a disapproving noise. “What if it matters? It's not like he's coming over here again.”

Their home was their safe-place, somewhere they wouldn't be afraid of accidentally revealing their powers. It always had been growing up, too; the rare friends that they had over were always planned beforehand.

Guilt churned in her stomach.

“I really thought you would've been out,” Marinette said, fiddling with her hands. “I—sorry for not checking.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then, Chloé broke it by off-handedly saying, “It's fine. It's not like he would've found me stroking your dead cat or anything.”

She cracked a smile at that. “Because you'd never be found doing that.”

“Never.” Chloé sniffed. “It's beneath me.”

Marinette just hummed as her answer.

It was when she was walking to university, passing the shops on the way past, that Marinette abruptly stopped in the street, taking a step back to check whether she'd seen the display correct.

And she really had.

There, in the window with other items that were supposed to entice customers into the charity shop, was something she was certain was too good to be true.

It was absolutely worth being late to class for.

Marinette walked into the store, politely asked an employee whether she could feel the item on display—earning her a strange look—and it was when she held the crystal in her hand that she realised that it really was the real deal.

It wasn't a fake at all.

And that was just—it was _wonderful_.

She even stopped off in another store on her way back home afterwards, tucking the purchase away into her bag, trying to avoid it being obvious when she walked through the door. Chloé finished classes an hour before her that day—a schedule she'd memorised from the two of them writing it down on their whiteboard—which meant that she'd probably want to talk by the time she got home.

That turned out to be correct.

It was when Marinette said that she was going to shower that she was able to get the two thing she bought out of her bag. She carefully tucked the crystal into the gift bag she'd bought, tying the ribbon nicely on the top, before really going to shower first.

Her hair was still wet when she went back into the living room.

Chloé was busy tapping away on her phone.

“Hey,” Marinette called, holding the bag with two hands. “Don't ignore me now.”

The unimpressed reply she got was, “You've literally just came back.”

“But I've got you a gift.”

That got her attention.

Chloé tossed her phone to the side—thankfully, it landed on the cushion of the sofa—and turned to look at her expectantly. And when she caught sight of the bag that had been specifically bought, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Why have you got that?”

“Because I still feel guilty about inviting Adrien over,” Marinette honestly replied.

“If seeing him means you'll continue to bribe me, go for it,” she answered.

Marinette laughed. “You don't even know what it is yet.”

“Considering it's in an actual gift bag, instead of a plastic one, I'm going to assume it's something good,” Chloé shot back. “Besides, I only deserve the best.”

She was almost tempted to chuck it at her. Instead, she dryly replied, “I'm sure.”

Chloé didn't answer that, holding her hands out towards the bag, opening and closing them in a childish display of her wanting the item. It wasn't something she did with many others; outside of their home, it was usually just Chloé's words that were immature, rather than her actions.

It showed that she trusted her.

And that was wonderful, really. Marinette had been lonely at times when growing up without a sibling, and while the inclusion of Chloé had been rocky at first, they got along really well. It helped that they'd been friends beforehand, and once Chloé had learned to accept the love that was sent her way, their relationship got even better.

Sometimes, she had to thank their parents for making sure that they'd been acquainted as children due to what they were, even though they hadn't really bonded until they shared classes together.

“I—what?” Chloé stuttered, shocked as she pulled the tiny crystal from the bag. “Where did you—”

Marinette reached up and fiddled with her earring. “Charity shop near the university. It was in the display.”

Chloé's voice was choked up as she replied, “But—I looked in there last week. There wasn't—Marinette, I can't take this.”

There was a lot unsaid in that.

“I want you to have it,” Marinette quietly admitted.

“Because you brought that stupid boy over?” Chloé's voice quivered with a small laugh. “That's—that really doesn't equal this, you know that. I don't—we already have some left, I don't _need_ this.”

While it was true that Chloé had residual powers left over, her levels left the same while she didn't actively use it, Marinette pointed out, “I got the last few ones.”

Chloé stood up, crossing the short distance and thrusting her hand into hers, crystal and all. “I don't need it.”

Marinette's throat felt tight as she pushed the crystal back to her. “We could save it.”

“Marinette—”

“We only have one more,” she hastily pointed out, gesturing towards the kitchen where their box was located. “What if something bad happens? It's good to be stocked up.”

Chloé frowned. “Tami's been like that for a month.”

“And she'll continue to be,” Marinette said. “It's not like she'll rot or anything—it's _okay_. I'm... I can bring her back any time, and it'll be like nothing had happened.”

Still, Chloé didn't look convinced. “Are you sure?”

“I'm certain,” Marinette insisted, utterly sincere. “It's good practice to have a stash, no? We'd be screwed if we both ran out.”

Chloé crossed her arms. “I've got a lot saved up.”

“Yeah, not really,” she rejected. “For, like, two uses? What if it's something big? You wouldn't stop bitching.”

With a glare, Chloé replied, “I'll happily let you suffer.”

Marinette beamed. “How nice.”

They did come to the conclusion that they could save it.

When the two of them had been at home with their parents, they'd been given permission to use their crystal if they had a good enough reason. And ever since they'd gained their powers, it meant trying to convince them that it was a good cause; including presentations, a lot of frustrated tears, and her and Chloé both sobbing over their dead cat for dramatic effect.

But since moving out, while they were given a crystal per birthday, they didn't last long.

Marinette didn't want to go running back, begging for some more.

The two stored in the kitchen meant more than she could fully say with words.

-x-

When Adrien had half the day off because his professor had cancelled his class, he offered to come to her university to visit.

She was the first to know, to the amusement of Alya and Nino over lunch, and it was when she was wandering out from her class with Chloé to her side that she spotted him waiting outside, on his phone.

Chloé sighed beside her. “Really?”

“I didn't ask him to home,” she whispered back. “Be nice, okay? He's not _that_ bad.”

That didn't convince her whatsoever. “Yeah, sure.”

“Adrien!” Marinette called out, holding up her hand for good measure.

It occurred to her that she could've text him, made it less public as she felt a bit self-conscious with all the eyes that turned towards her because of that, but the way he smiled when he saw her was absolutely worth it.

It should've been obvious that the warm feeling that spread through her wasn't the normal reaction, nor was the goofy smile she had on as he happily crossed the distance between them to sweep her into a tight hug, one that had become customary between them.

And the fact that it didn't feel awkward was astounding.

Beside them, Chloé cleared her throat pointedly.

Adrien was still hugging her as he addressed her with, “Hey! Chloé, right?”

“Right,” Chloé agreed, displeasure clear in her voice. “You better not show your face at my place again, got it?”

“Our place,” Marinette corrected, stepping back away from the hug. “And we're not. Unless you want to see Alya and Nino again, you should probably go.”

Chloé wrinkle her nose at that. “Not those two.”

“Yeah, those two,” she confirmed, nodding her head along with her words. “See you later, yeah?”

Chloé left with a parting gesture of holding her middle finger up.

Amused, Adrien asked her, “Is she always like that?”

“Oh, yes,” she confirmed. For as much as they'd spoken about their lives, she didn't reveal much about Chloé. “And that's being quite friendly, actually. She gets really prickly about Alya, though.”

“I've heard a bit about that,” he revealed.

Marinette gasped. “You've been gossiping?”

“Not that much,” he replied, touching the back of his neck. “I just—I asked them about you, so Chloé was brought up.”

She made a noise of agreement. “I guess that makes sense.”

“You don't really talk about her much,” he remarked.

And that was true. “It's not really my place to do that,” she answered. “If she was just a friend, yeah, I'd tell you a lot more but I—it doesn't feel right, you know?”

“Just a—” Adrien cut himself off, clearing his throat. “I... I didn't know you were like that.”

It didn't a moment for her to realise what his conclusion of.

She burst into laughter.

“Cute,” she remarked. “Don't you think you would've known by now if I was dating someone? Especially if they hated my friends, at that.”

He looked a little embarrassed. “Sorry?”

“I forgive you,” she said, trying to keep a straight face as she put a hand on his shoulder. “She's, like, my sister. But for real, though, since my parents adopted her.”

“Oh.” There was a beat of silence. “_Oh_.”

Marinette smiled.

“But you—I wasn't told that before,” he said, eyebrows knitting together. “From Nino and Alya, I mean.”

She shrugged, hand dropping back down to her side. “We don't advertise it much.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Adrien softly replied. “It—it means a lot.”

But when she was talking to him, it didn't seem like something big. It wasn't anything unusual, wasn't like bringing him into her home without a second thought, and she was always relaxed when they were together.

Then, as his phone buzzed and he said that he got a message from Nino saying that they were going to be a few minutes later, she and Adrien wandered over near a wall, the two of them leaning against it as they waited for their friends.

She didn't flinch as his hand brushed hers.

And as the movement happened again, in such a short amount of time that it could've have been an accident, she didn't move away as he gently clasped her hand in his, so hesitant and slow, as though he expected her to disagree with the action.

It was the exact opposite.

Marinette didn't look at him as she linked her fingers through his, trying to get more comfortable, and she could feel her face growing hotter from the shy touches.

But it—it wasn't from nerves, not really. As always, Adrien had a way of making her feel relaxed, not afraid to make mistakes.

The last time they'd been together, she'd choked on her food because she'd been laughing too hard, and she'd accidentally spat out the mouthful she'd been chewing at the time.

He'd only cared about whether she was okay.

And the thought that, maybe, he felt the same way about her—the warmth in her chest, the fluttering of happiness that appeared when she saw him—was one that she really liked.

When they saw Alya and Nino approaching, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

It wasn't a rejection.

Rather than holing up at a dorm, they decided to go out for a late lunch, but it turned out to be more of a dinner. They went to a diner that was nearby, not too expensive, and bought drinks first so they could sip them while talking for a while before deciding on food.

With Alya sat beside her the whole time, it meant that Adrien had decided to slide into the booth across from her, meaning they kept bumping their legs into each other, grinning over the table whenever it happened.

Adrien kept grinning whenever she caught him looking at her, too.

His actions proved that the hand-holding wasn't a mistake, something that he wasn't a mistake. And just thinking about that made her wonder whether she was a kid again, questioning every single one of his actions—but it wasn't like eighteen was very grown either.

Afterwards, when they were parting ways, Adrien offered to walk with her, even though it was in the opposite direction.

“It's fine,” he said. “I have to wait a bit for my ride to get here as it is, so why not spend some time with you?”

She didn't argue with that.

And to make it even better, when their hands brushed as they walked side-by-side, Adrien asked, “Can I hold your hand?”

Marinette's answer was in the form of linking their fingers together. “You didn't ask last time.”

“I was shy,” he quietly replied.

“Was?” she questioned.

He squeezed her hand. “You kind of have a way of making me feel—I don't know, relaxed.”

That made her smile reach her eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, voice as soft as his expression as he turned to look at her. And when he smiled, he showed the indents on his cheeks. “I just—I really like you, Marinette.”

The beating of her heart wasn't from nerves. “I like you, too.”

Then, of all the things he could've said, he came out with, “I'm really glad you're not dating Chloé.”

Her shoulders shook as she laughed. “And why is that?”

“Because,” he started, still smiling widely, “I'd really like to ask you on a date.”

It was effortless with him, that was the best way to describe it. The way he made her feel, even when it was just from his name appearing on her phone, made her other dabbles in romance pale greatly in comparison.

Her cheeks were starting to hurt. “I'd like that.”

They parted with a hug, but it did last longer than their greeting one.

Marinette was still smiling when she went inside, even though she managed to trip on the stairs going up.

Chloé's expression was suspicious when her gaze flickered between the smile and her tights ripped on her knees, but all Marinette wanted to do was tell her about what had happened with Adrien, wanting to share it with her friend.

As close as she was with Alya, she didn't want to venture into talking about her romantic life with her.

Chloé decided to say, “Tell me if you're bringing him over.”

And that was encouragement if she ever saw it.

Marinette hugged her to show how happy she was.

Chloé asked, “Are you going to limp from your knees?”

With a laugh, Marinette replied, “It's just a scratch, I'll be fine.”

“You're literally bleeding.”

“What a shame,” she dismissively said. “I'll heal.”

After getting Chloé to promise not to tell their parents that she was going on a date—because it would've resulted in so many questions, ones she didn't want when she wasn't even sure how it was going to turn out—the two of them settled down together, and Marinette rested her head on Chloé's shoulder, surprised that she wasn't being pushed away.

“I got some news today, by the way,” Chloé announced.

She hummed. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Chloé glumly confirmed. “It was in the chat with the others—you know, the one you always have _muted_?”

Marinette exclaimed, “So do you!”

“I check it every now and then, unlike you, dumbass,” Chloé shot back. “There's a demon at our university.”

Marinette sighed. “Is that all?”

“That means,” Chloé insisted, not dropping the subject. “It's going to get back to our parents eventually, and they'll fret all about it. I can't be fucking bothered to go through another lecture, Marinette.”

Without thinking much about it, Marinette replied, “So, don't.”

“Sure, because that's so easy,” was the sarcastic reply she got. “We may not give a shit, but they _do_. I already had all the danger talks growing up, so if I have to go through them with your parents, I'm going to slit my fucking wrists.”

“Oh, they're just mine now, are they?”

Chloé threw a cushion at her. “This is serious!”

“I really can't have the energy to care,” Marinette confessed, honest. “It just—it's not like it'll really concern us, right?”

Chloé scowled. “You're talking to them, not me.”

“Fine, fine.” She sighed. “I'll deal with the parental ire, but in return, ignore that dumb chat, okay?”

“_Fine_.”

-x-

Adrien took her into the city on their date.

It was late February, almost the end of the month, and it meant that she had a hat and gloves on, while he had an oversized scarf that almost hid his chin from how big it was. It made him look rather cute, actually, especially when it was combined with his coat.

There was no denying that his clothing was always good quality, and she could count on one hand the amount of times she'd seen him wear the same article of clothing another time.

But he didn't flaunt his wealth; however, he did offer to buy her things all the time, trying to pay for everything for his friends—which she'd seen with Alya and Nino—and he wasn't shy in attempting to pay for her rides when she said she'd use public transport to get back.

It was his way of caring, she supposed.

If Marinette had that amount of money, to still be comfortable with life without worrying about how much she'd spent, she probably would've been the same, too.

So, as her gesture for their date, she paid for his coffee before he arrived at the café. She was smiling smugly when he walked through the door, beckoning him over, and was terribly proud that their drinks were still hot when he'd arrived.

“Devious,” he accused, but there was no heat to his words.

He sat across from her, their knees touching beneath the table.

Even though they were in a room with a dozen other people, it still felt intimate. The music was quiet, the conversations around them weren't too loud, and the two of them were talking quietly, exchanging fond looks and giddy smiles when they caught the other staring.

She really, really liked him.

And when he told him as such, she could see it as the top of his ears reddened.

It was so very endearing.

After, when they were walking past the shops, they weren't holding their gloved hands, but their arms were brushing every so often. Marinette was laughing at a joke he'd made when she caught sight of a new shop when they'd turned the corner.

She wanted to see whether he'd be rude about it.

“Can we go in there?” Marinette asked, gesturing towards the charity shop.

There was no visible negative reaction on his face. Adrien looked towards where she was pointing, interested, and said yes without a second thought.

That made it even better.

It had a lot of knick-knacks inside, shoes and clothing, and even a few paintings that she found amusing. It wasn't the largest shop, but there was a good selection of things—

“That's pretty,” Adrien suddenly said, pointing towards the small trinkets that were placed together on a shelf.

It wasn't just the shelf he was pointing out, though; it was the selection of crystals and gems that were in a tiny wicker basket, a small sign in front saying how much they were each.

Her eyes honed in on a specific one.

What were the odds that she'd find two in such a short amount of time?

But before she could even say anything, Adrien had picked up the one she'd been eyeing, turning it over in his hands as he remarked, “It's really good quality, too.”

It had stood out from the rest of the ones in the basket.

“Pretty,” she agreed, coming to stand beside him. “Do you—” Marinette started, running a hand through her hair. “Are you going to buy it?”

He inspected it in the light. “Maybe.”

“Do you collect rocks?”

“I used to, as a kid,” he revealed.

She smiled at that. “Me, too.”

“Really?” Adrien asked, lifting his head up to look at her, grinning. “How big was your collection?”

“It was pretty pathetic,” she confessed. “I only cared about it being pretty.”

He laughed. “I was the same.”

“Ever had one of these?” she questioned.

A bit shyly, he confessed, “No, but I always wanted one.”

It could've been easy. She knew that if she said that she wanted it—and goodness, did she—he would've given it to her without a second thought, but he—

“You should get it,” Marinette suggested.

And as she watched him walk to the cashier, she didn't regret her decision. Maybe, at a later date, she'd look back at that moment and think of herself as stupid, but she was happy with what had just happened. It was just Adrien opening up a little about his childhood, revealing some more of himself, and she wanted to see him smile.

It was worth it.

He held her gloved hand after that.

As always, he insisted on walking her home. Marinette didn't have any qualms with it, letting him do what would make him happy, and he didn't even ask to come up when they came to the front of her building.

“I had fun,” he admitted quietly, voice as soft as his smile. “Thanks for coming out with me.”

She grinned right back. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Can you—would you do me a favour?” he questioned, stumbling over his words a little.

She agreed without hesitation.

Marinette closed her eyes, feeling a bit giddy about the possibilities of what he could do. He'd been tentative all day, knees brushing under the table, shy about taking her hand in his, and his expressions had been so tender and openly caring that she really wouldn't mind if he chose to kiss her at that moment.

Gently, he took her hand into his, but instead of linking their fingers together, he turned hers over so her palm was open, and then something cold was placed into it.

Opening her eyes, she looked down in surprise at the crystal that was suddenly in her hand.

“I—what?” was her eloquent response.

Adrien closer her fingers over it, grinning. “For you.”

“But—I thought you wanted it?”

“More reason for me to come and see you, right?” He had the gall to wink. “I want you to have it.”

It meant more to her than she could put into words. It wasn't as though Adrien would really understand, not really; it wasn't her secret to reveal, nor was it her place to expose him to that part of the world, so all she could do was throw her arms around his neck to embrace him tightly.

“You're ridiculous,” she accused, no heat to her words.

She was absolutely sure he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Marinette was so smitten with him.

And it was because of that that when she went inside, she barged her way into Chloé's bedroom, throwing herself on top of the bed and waking up her friend in the process.

Chloé almost shoved her off the the bed. “What the fuck?”

“Look,” she hastily said, frantically waving the crystal around in her hand. “Adrien gave me this!”

“Is that—” Chloé sat up, looking more alert than she had barely moments ago. “Are you fucking serious?”

Her laugh sounded a bit hysterical. “Right?”

“Does he—”

“No,” Marinette said, giddy. “He just—he said I could look after it for him, but it was really sweet, okay?”

That was a beat of silence.

Then, Chloé's voice broke it by demanding, “Fucking use it, Marinette.”

“I can't!” Marinette said, shaking her head. “It's—it's significant, okay? I don't—I don't _want_ to use it. Not yet, at least.”

“Tami's _dead_.”

“She's fine,” she insisted. “She's gone longer before.”

Chloé breathed out audibly. “Isn't he suspicious that you haven't shown any recent pictures of her yet?”

That was a good point. “I... don't think so?”

“Use one from the stash, then,” was the suggestion she got in return. “If you're going to keep that one on display, bring her back with another. You can have a gross date and invite him over that way.”

It was the closest thing Chloé would say to supporting her relationship.

It made Marinette beam. “Really?”

“I'm not going to say it again,” Chloé grumpily replied. “Can you fuck off now? I want to sleep.”

“Okay, okay,” she agreed with a laugh. “But—for real, are you sure I can use one?”

Chloé rolled over. “Fuck off, Marinette!”

-x-

“She's so cute,” Adrien cooed, stretched across her bed on his stomach, staring down at Tami on the floor. “How could you keep me away from her for so long?”

Marinette laughed. “Maybe I was scared you'd like her more than me?”

“I would've said that's impossible, but I'm having second thoughts,” he quipped.

From where she was sat beside her sleeping cat, Marinette placed a hand over her heart and gasped. “How could you?”

“I'm sorry, I can't lie to you,” he replied, trying to keep a straight face. “But Tami's very—there's no words to describe her, Marinette.”

Tami wasn't the most active cat any more. Physically, she was less than a decade old, but her family had had her for longer. During the periods of time where her heart wasn't beating, her body didn't decay, but it didn't age either. Those times made it so her life was paused, even though she'd died relatively young from an accident.

Chloé's presence in the family had helped to preserve her, too.

“You can't steal my cat,” she proclaimed.

Adrien batted his eyelashes. “Please?”

“Absolutely not,” she scolded. “However, you've been given permission to come over here and see her, if you want to.”

“Really?” he questioned, visibly surprised. “I—but Chloé glared at me earlier.”

She grinned. “She's just a bit awkward.”

“That's... not really the word I'd use for her,” he mused. “But, okay, I'll believe you for now.”

The crystal was on her dresser, in a bowl along with her few necklaces that she sometimes wore. Adrien had looked so pleased when he'd spotted it, but his attention was immediately caught by Tami snoozing on the floor.

He didn't even try to wake her up, which was nice.

“She's the best,” he uttered, sounding so fond of her, despite only meeting her for the first time a few hours ago.

It made her feel warm and all sorts of positive things from seeing him interact so gently with her cat. And, later, when Tami had woken up and plodded over to investigate the new person in the room, Marinette grinned from the hesitant way he stroked the top of her head, being careful not to use too much force.

It wasn't forced at all.

Adrien had been interested in her cat since the beginning, after all.

Sitting down on the bed beside him—with him still on his stomach, gazing down at the floor—Marinette quietly called out, “Adrien.”

He made an inquisitive noise.

“Close your eyes,” she requested.

Without questioning it, he did as she'd asked.

Leaning down—and almost falling off the bed in the process—Marinette pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips before pulling away again.

And when he opened his eyes to look at her, he didn't say. But he didn't have to, not when his lips curled into a fond smile, dimples showing on his cheeks as he pushed himself up to sit properly, scooting along so he was able to put his legs on the floor.

“What was that for?” he asked.

She grinned. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

With a laugh, the corner of his eyes crinkled from his smile. “You're cute,” he said.

Marinette hummed. “I know.”

“You know, do you?” Adrien questioned, amused. “You're awfully full of yourself.”

“You're cute, too,” she assured him, reaching out and patting his thigh sympathetically. “I'm sorry if you felt left out.”

Adrien's laughter was nice to hear.

And in that moment, as they just grinned at each other, in the sanctuary of her room with her very much alive cat snoozing on the floor in front of her, she couldn't have asked for anything more. Adrien made her feel—feel just so-very-happy when they were together, and having him beside her in such an intimate setting felt like something she didn't know she wanted to have before.

Then again, before they'd met, she hadn't really been focused on romance.

Taking her hand into his, Adrien asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Marinette beamed. “Of course.”

It was a little awkward.

Their noses brushed as she closed her eyes, leaning into him and tilting her head up so their height difference wouldn't be a problem, and the press of his lips against her was tentative and shy. At first, it was just a matter of the two of them trying to be comfortable, not quite sure what to do with their hands, and she was the first one to laugh against his mouth.

She could feel it as he smiled.

It didn't take long for the two of them to relax. Marinette was still holding his hand, the other on her bed as she leaned forward, and the soft brush of his lips only encouraged her for more.

She could feel his warm breath, the soft feeling of his lips against hers, and it was only when their kiss started to get more heated that she pulled away.

Marinette was smiling when she caught sight of his inquisitive look.

“Tami,” she explained, pointing down to the floor.

Adrien laughed.

“It's weird,” Marinette insisted. “I don't want to do anything in front of her!”

He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “I get it.”

“Thanks,” she whispered, purposely bumping her nose against his. “For not thinking I'm weird.”

“Weird?” he queried. “I wouldn't want to do anything in front of my pet either—if I had one, that is.”

Marinette grinned. “You should get one.”

“I wish,” Adrien complained, falling back against the mattress. “But I'm not—I don't think I could do it right now? Not when I'm barely home. I might after university.”

She fell back with him, turning to face him and putting one leg over his to get comfortable. “What would you get?”

“A cat, definitely,” he replied. “My father's allergic, so that's why I never had one growing up.”

She made a noise of agreement. “That sucks.”

“He sucks,” he confirmed with a laugh.

Being with Adrien was easy-going.

There wasn't a moment where her hands were clammy from nerves, she didn't over think things with him, and when Chloé suggested that she bring Adrien over for dinner, so she could actually talk to him, she didn't hesitate to extend the invitation to him.

Adrien, however, was worried.

“She's not going to poison me, is she?” he questioned, hands in his pockets as they walked up the flight of steps to her floor. “This—this is screaming murder and hiding my body, Marinette.”

She snorted. “That's far too much effort.”

“That's reassuring, thanks,” he muttered.

“Chloé's trying to be nice,” she revealed. “I promise she doesn't actually mean the shit she's bound to say, but you can always tell her to fuck off if you think she's being annoying.”

He looked at her, wide-eyed. “I'm not going to tell your best friend to fuck off—”

“You can and will,” Marinette interjected. “If you just sit there and take it, she's going to think you're really boring.”

“This is worse than a job interview,” he proclaimed.

“Adrien,” she slowly said. “Have you even had a job interview before?”

He sniffed. “Irrelevant.”

“If you say so, rich boy,” Marinette remarked, amused. “I'm serious, it'll be fine.”

“She's hates Nino and Alya,” he pointed out.

Marinette shrugged. “Let's see if she hates you, too.”

“Absolutely reassuring,” he reiterated, brushing strands of hair away from his forehead. “It's not like I can charm her with my good looks, can I?”

With a laugh, Marinette had to say, “No, sorry. She's already infatuated with her own reflection.”

The evening wasn't that bad, surprisingly.

Chloé and Adrien got along well after the first half an hour of them sitting awkwardly at the time. Then, Marinette had suggested that they stay there and talk while she went and cooked dinner—even though it was in the same room, so it was within hearing distance of them—and she mostly listened out to hear what they were saying to each other.

It got a lot easier when Tami trotted out of her room and came to sit between the two of them.

Adrien was a lot more vocal of how much he liked Tami, while Chloé usually showed her affection through actions, all the while proclaiming not to actually like her that much.

Marinette knew better, however.

Adrien picked up on that within no time.

And so, it was while she was stirring the food in the pan that she could hear Chloé telling him some ridiculous stories of Tami when she was a kitten, along with the dumb things Marinette had done growing up.

Sure, the two of them were sticking with safe topics, but Adrien wasn't bristling or getting offended from Chloé's off-handed remarks, so she was going to count it as the two of them getting along.

“You know I don't like these,” Chloé complained when she was given her plate, staring down at the vegetables that were included.

Marinette snorted. “Shut up and eat.”

“You're the worst,” Chloé said, not bothering to pick them out.

Adrien just watched them in amusement.

It was during their meal that her phone rang, her mother's name appearing on the screen.

She shared a knowing look with Chloé before excusing herself, walking into her bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

The conversation was as tedious as she expected it to be—at least, one part of it was.

Her relationship with her parents was good. They had been busy with work during her childhood, busy providing for her and then Chloé when she was added to the family, and although she'd resented them a bit when she was little, she'd gotten over that.

The main stress in their relationship was their different views. It was a generation thing, Marinette had concluded.

Witches, as they were all called, were rare.

At least, that's what she'd always been told.

It was a tight-knit community, one where families with the quirk all knew each other, and everyone was brought up not realising much was different until they came into their powers and realised what they could do.

And thus, it was only natural that there was the opposite of them.

“You are staying safe, aren't you, sweetheart?” her mother asked.

There was no denying the fact that there was only one reason she'd be asking that.

“I'm fine,” Marinette assured her. “We're fine, I mean. I really—I don't even know who it is, so we're not in any danger.”

Not that there would actually be any danger.

There was a lot more violence when her parents were children, back when witches and demons were more concerned with who was the more dominant race—if it could even be classed as that—rather than blending in with the humans.

Marinette was more concerned about passing her classes than wondering who the demon in her university was.

“You should,” her mother scolded her. “It's—I hate to tell you this, but it's someone you know, Marinette.”

Chloé hadn't mentioned that piece of information. “What?”

“You went to preschool with him.”

That didn't really change anything, though. Marinette could barely remember those years of her life, didn't care to, and she definitely didn't have a feud with any demon that she'd ever interacted with in her life.

Her parents weren't quite the same. “Before you made me transfer?”

“Yes,” was the confirmation she got.

It was _ridiculous_.

What did it even matter?

It was more out of pride than anything else that her parents continued on their tradition of hating them. It wasn't their concern whether anything bad had actually happened; demons and witches had stayed out of the public eyes for a good decade, strange accidents barely ever appeared in the news, and Marinette had certainly never seen anyone her age butting heads because of prejudice growing up.

She sighed. “Okay, mother.”

The conversation changed to nicer things after that, but Marinette was still annoyed that that had been what had caused her parents to call her in the first place. Since starting university, they'd mostly conversed through texts, phone calls rarely happening.

But as soon as something they disliked came up, of course they found the time to call her without any prior warning.

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes when she went back into the other room.

If either of them noticed, they didn't point anything else.

The night was considered a success.

Adrien didn't hate Chloé—he promised that he wasn't lying when he said that—and Chloé said that he was tolerable for a short period of time.

“Nice,” Marinette had said to that.

-x-

As Marinette's classes ran for longer than his, Adrien had come to pick her up at the campus afterwards, sweeping her into a hug and pressing his lips against hers, the two of them laughing as he did so.

She swiped at his arm. “Put me down.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, giving in.

But not before kissing her once more.

Marinette was grinning as she stared up at him, seeing his own smile reaching his eyes.

“Hey,” she greeted, feeling a little bit ridiculous.

If possible, his smile grew wider. “Hey, you.”

“Fancy seeing you here,” she quipped.

“Funny,” he replied, insincere. “Are you hungry yet, or wanna go window shop for a bit?”

“I skipped lunch for this,” Marinette revealed, sounding ever-so-proud. “Feed me before I faint, please.”

He laughed. “Only because you said please.”

“That's all it takes for you to give in?” she questioned, linking her arm through is. It wasn't too awkward with their height difference—where her head came up to his chest—but it didn't last long. “If only I knew manners are your weakness before this.”

Adrien replied, “Are you sure it's not just you?”

“Do I make your knees weak?” she teased, unlinking their arms and reaching up to press her finger to his cheek. “Are smitten for me, Adrien?”

He gently pushed her hand away. “I'm regretting it now.”

“You can't take it back!”

Throwing an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her into a clumsy embrace, her face hitting his chest and muffling her laughter as he tried to smother her.

“This is cheating,” she accused.

Adrien pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

And the next time someone spoke, it wasn't either of them.

Instead, Marinette pulled back in surprise as Adrien's name was called out in a voice that she wasn't familiar with. And, with a peek up at him, it was clear that he was confused about who it was, too.

A male came to stand in front of them, a bit out of breath as he'd ran across from the other side, red in his cheeks but still smiling.

“Dude!” he greeted, obviously excited.

Adrien sounded as surprised as he looked. “Kim?”

Marinette stepped away from Adrien's embrace, not feeling left out as him and the newcomer, Kim, immediately hugged each other, talking rapidly and saying how shocked they were to see each other after such a long time.

It was kind of heart-warming to watch, even if she didn't understand what was really going on. But seeing Adrien so visibly happy, talking quickly with his friend and still looking shocked made her feel as fond as him as ever.

There was a lot of things she liked about him, and his sincerity was one of them.

“Oh, shoot,” Adrien said, taking a step back and gesturing towards her. “This is—this is my girlfriend, Marinette.”

She raised a hand to wave at Kim awkwardly. “Hey.”

Kim spoke loudly, laughed with just as much volume, but he was full of smiles and happiness. And when he excitedly reached out and shook her hand, it might've been with too much force, but it wasn't out of spite.

“It's nice to meet you,” he said, smile reaching his eyes.

She flexed her fingers. “You, too.”

Adrien and Kim exchanged numbers before they parted ways. As open as Adrien had been, suggesting for Kim to come along for dinner with them—to which she didn't mind, not when he'd looked for approval when asking him it—Kim had to go to meet up with his family, saying that he'd liked to keep in touch.

When they got to the restaurant, where it was Adrien's turn to pay, he revealed that he'd grown up with Kim when they were younger.

“Our families were friends,” he revealed, taking a sip of his drink. “But I haven't—I didn't see him after he transferred, and we weren't really that close to begin with. Not enough to actually keep in touch.”

She mused, “He seemed happy to see you.”

“It's been a while,” Adrien said. “Our parents had this big falling out, and I still don't really understand what it was about? But Kim moved away after that. I didn't even know that he'd moved back to the city.”

Marinette asked, “Haven't you got him as a friend online or something?”

“Sure, but I don't really check it,” he admitted. Then, his shoulders slumped as he came to the realisation of, “I should probably tell my family before they find out from someone else.”

“I know the feeling,” she muttered.

He laughed. “You do?”

“Oh, yes,” she confirmed. “I tend to stay out of the drama, you know? It's too much effort to try and keep up-to-date with everything, but Chloé warned me that—that someone less-than-savoury had moved back into the area.”

“Let me guess,” he started. “You didn't tell your parents?”

Marinette sighed. “No.”

“There, there.” He reached across the table and patted her hand. “You'll learn to not be an idiot someday.”

She snorted. “Shouldn't you be telling yours now?”

“No,” he replied without hesitation. “Because one of them will call me and ask for some long explanation, and I don't want to do that and waste my time with you.”

With a grin, she remarked, “How sweet.”

He batted his eyelashes. “I try.”

“Try less,” Marinette teased. “You'll make my teeth hurt soon.”

It didn't seem like anything too significant. Adrien having his old friend back in life seemed like a good thing, something to make him happy, and it shouldn't have made her life any more difficult.

Somehow, that wasn't the case.

Adrien had invited her, Alya, Nino to his apartment for the evening. He'd told her promises of food and alcohol, something she wasn't going to say no to, and it was only when she suggested that he could invite Kim along, to get to know him better, that things started to go wrong.

Kim accepted the invitation enthusiastically.

When Adrien went to answer the door and returned with Kim by his side, Nino had much the same reaction as he'd had the first time.

“Kim?” Nino asked, clumsily getting up and crossing the distance between them to bring him into a tight hug. “You—dude, why didn't you _tell_ me you were here?”

Kim laugh seemed to echo in the room. “I got asked not to.”

“_Asked_?”

“Yeah,” Kim confirmed.

It sounded weird to her ears.

Why wouldn't—it didn't really make sense that they hadn't seen each other for so long, not after Nino revealed that he'd been closer to Kim growing up.

“Adrien was an anti-social little shit,” Nino whispered to Marinette, earning him a pillow thrown across the room.

Alya just shrugged at her.

While Adrien, Nino, and Kim were still talking, Marinette wandered over to the kitchen to get another drink, and Alya joined her without any prompting.

“Feeling a bit left out?” Alya joked.

“A little,” she agreed. “But it's—they're happy Kim's back, I guess?”

“I haven't even heard about Kim before,” Alya said. “And I've been dating Nino for, like, four years.”

Marinette raised her eyebrows. “That's a long time.”

“That means I went to school with him and Adrien,” Alya pointed out. “And I _never_ heard anything about a Kim, I swear. Not from either of them.”

There wasn't much she could say to that.

It didn't seem relevant.

At least, not until Alya asked, “So, what other schools did you go to?”

Kim blinked. “Huh?”

“Have you always been local?” she queried.

“I—I guess?” Kim answered, sounding a bit uncertain. “I mean, yeah. Until I had to move away before.”

Alya didn't ask another question.

It was Nino that turned to Marinette and asked, “What about you, Marinette?”

“Me?” she asked, a bit surprised. “You—you really want to know?”

“Yeah, dude,” Nino said, as though it wasn't such a random topic. “Tell us everything.”

She laughed. “That's a bit much.”

“Okay, we'll start from the beginning, then,” Nino decided, putting one hand on top of the other, resting them on his knee and looking at her expectantly. “Where did little Marinette go to school?”

It was silly, something that should've had had significance, but when Marinette said the first school that she'd attended for only a few months, there was a reaction.

“Man, I went there!” Kim excitedly exclaimed. “What year? I mean—how old are you _now_?”

“...Eighteen?”

He raised a fist in the air, jubilant. “We were babies together!”

There was laughter from their friends, clearly amused from the sudden development, and it should've been left there. The conversation should've moved on, changed to something better—

“Holy shit,” Kim continued, staring at her with widened eyes, more interest than before. “I think I remember you?”

She looked at him in disbelief. “How?”

“Not like remember _you_,” he clarified, being ever-so-helpful. “But I was told of you. I mean, the whole reason you—you know, transferred.”

But that—that was ridiculous.

Her parents had pulled her out, uncomfortable with her being in a class with a demon. It hadn't been something she'd done, and she doubted she'd been bullied at such a young age, and she couldn't even recall anything that had happened in those few months.

And yet, Kim was there, proclaiming that he knew all about it.

It made her stomach feel uncomfortable.

She swallowed. “What?”

“You know, the whole—” Kim started before turning his head to look at Alya, the sight of her causing him to shut his mouth.

There was an uncomfortable silence where no one wanted to say anything.

Kim's shoulders had slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact any further.

Marinette's mouth felt dry.

For Kim to say that—did it mean that he _knew_?

A lot of people didn't, and that was how their world functioned. Marinette couldn't look at a stranger on the street and determine what they were; she couldn't watch an actor and know whether they were like her or a demon, and she definitely couldn't tell from something as simple as touching someone's hand.

There was no possible way for her to know what Kim was.

No one used their powers in public—but then again, everyone was different. They couldn't be trained to be something over than what they were blessed with.

Marinette was just blessed with death, that was all.

Alya was the one to break the silence. “I'm going to pee,” she announced.

The topic wasn't brought up again.

Although she stayed the night at Adrien's, it wasn't romantic; well, not any more than usual. It was filled with Marinette being house to vomiting—from a mixture of the nerves and drinking too much alcohol—and Alya and Nino were crashing in the living room, their conversation able to be heard as she was in bed with Adrien.

Kim had gone home.

He lived close to Adrien's side of the city, meaning he had to travel for a while to get to university when he had classes.

Alya hadn't questioned that.

It was understandable that Nino hadn't bumped into Kim, or known that he was around the campus, not when they weren't in contact and in completely different classes.

It was normal, she told herself.

Her stomach hurt.

“You okay?” Adrien quietly asked.

Their legs were touching under the covers, but there wasn't anything sexual about it.

“I'm fine,” she said, but it didn't sound sincere.

“I'm sorry about Kim,” he offered. “I didn't—I never expected him to make you feel uncomfortable.”

But she didn't want to ruin his good mood. Adrien had been so happy to reconnect with his friend, overjoyed to have him back in his life, and Marinette—Marinette had no place taking that away from him.

Kim hadn't really done anything, after all.

Her throat felt tight as she replied, “He didn't make me uncomfortable.”

“Mari,” he whispered, reaching out and touching her side. “You'd tell me if he really did, right?”

She swallowed. “Right.”

“Okay,” Adrien said, and it wasn't clear whether he believed her. “He's—he's always been a bit over-the-top. He hasn't really grown out of that.”

She could still remember how wide Adrien had smiled when meeting him again. “He seems nice.”

“I think so,” he whispered back. “But he can be a bit, well, a bit of a witch sometimes.”

Marinette almost threw up.

-x-

Chloé was suspicious. “You... think Adrien's a witch?”

“No!” she denied, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Kim is! _Kim_, his friend!”

“But he's in the know,” Chloé loftily corrected herself. “Have I got that right?”

“Who else uses witch to fucking describe a dude, Chloé?” Marinette asked, gripping her hair at the roots, stressed. “No one, that's who! It's a really weird word, and—_and_—”

And as Marinette flung herself to the side of the sofa, pressing her face into a pillow and trying to get her frustrations out, Chloé didn't say a word.

It was beyond frustrating.

“Got that out of your system, loser?”

“Shut up.” Marinette's words were muffled by the cushion. “I'm wallowing here.”

“I'm not seeing the con here,” Chloé declared. “You've got a boyfriend that won't scream bloody murder that you're able to fuck around with the dead—well, not like _that_. What more could you want from a guy?”

She breathed out loudly. “What if Kim's just—I don't know, some really innocent witch and that's all Adrien knows?”

“He could be a basic bitch and make plants healthy,” Chloé mused. “That's pretty lame.”

“You're lame,” Marinette muttered.

“Let's see if you say that the next time you want me to heal you,” Chloé tartly replied. “Just fucking ask him.”

“What?” Marinette sat up, looking at her friend with wide eyes. “Are you—you're fucking with me, right?”

Chloé shrugged. “Not like he'll believe you if he really doesn't know.”

It was against everything they'd been taught.

To keep their powers a secret, not to associate with demons, and be an active part of the community.

Marinette had grown up not to do two of those, even though her parents had preached the rules to her and Chloé. There was no loathing for demons from her, Marinette hadn't communicated with the group chat with others of her kind for _months_, and hated doing so, and it was only because Chloé wanted to know the gossip that she looked at them at all.

Although she asked Chloé not to say anything to Adrien, she didn't have much hope that Chloé wouldn't. She'd always been unpredictable.

That was why when Adrien next came over to her apartment, it was when Chloé had gone out with her friends (for certain).

As always, Adrien was cooing over Tami, crouching down and showering her with attention.

Tami only had a few days left unless Marinette opened her stash for another crystal.

She didn't want to do that.

“She's so cute,” Adrien said from where he was on the floor beside the feline, not caring about his clothing at all.

It wasn't that her apartment was dirty; it was small, true, but she didn't have it professionally cleaned, not like him. There was a lot of differences between them, but Adrien never seemed to mind them. He didn't turn his nose up in disgust from cheap shops, nor was he stuck up about fast food.

He was just used to spending the money he had.

“You can't have her,” Marinette pointed out.

He jutted out his lower lip as he looked up at her.

“No,” she insisted. “She's mine. She's just a slut for attention, that's all.”

With a laugh, he asked, “Aren't we all?”

There wasn't anything awkward between them. They'd moved past that night with Kim—so much so it had barely been talked about, only when Alya had gossiped with her during the week, saying she hadn't found anything more about Kim yet—but there was still the lingering that something was off.

Adrien's remark when they went into her bedroom added to that growing panic.

It had started with kisses, Marinette on the edge of her bed as he leaned down to press his lips to hers. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him closer, and they both laughed as they fell back. It was easy, natural, not full of nerves that she was doing anything wrong.

His breath was warm, touches were warm against her skin, and she didn't push his hand away when it wandered up her shirt, fingertips trailing over her side.

If anything, Marinette encouraged him, pulling him closer and opened her mouth, deepening their kiss with an appreciative noise.

Adrien wasn't against it.

And as he kissed her just as passionately, Marinette lifted her hips up, trying to get comfortable, and as she brushed against him in the process, she smiled from the confirmation that he was into it just as much as her.

With the added confidence, she purposely raised her hips again to meet him, hoping that he'd get the hint.

And, to her pleasure, he did.

Her fingers curled around his shirt—nails not digging into his skin—as he rolled his hips against hers, the sudden friction a delightful addition that caused a pleased moan to escape her lips. And it seemed that the noise only spurred him on, causing her to pull away from their kiss with a gasp, pressing her head into the crook of his neck, trying to regain her breath as they continued to rut against each other.

She wasn't embarrassed about the noises she made, not when Adrien was making some, too.

The only reason they stopped was because a high-pitched sound didn't come from either of them.

Adrien stilled. “Is that—”

And when pulled her head back to look at him, taking in his wide eyes, the flushed cheeks, and the wetness to his red lips, Marinette couldn't help but burst into laughter.

Adrien rolled to the side, laughing with her.

She wheezed out, “Tami—”

Tami responded her loudly.

Adrien's body shook with his laughter. He went as far as to put his face onto her duvet, not trying to smother the sound.

It was made even better when Tami jumped onto the bed, claws digging into Adrien's back as she tried to get stable. Then, as he made a noise of surprise, Tami continued to walk along his back, standing on him as she turned her head to yell again.

Marinette had tears by the time Tami had settled down on the bed beside them—no longer trying to knead Adrien's back—while Adrien was taking multiple pictures with his phone, trying to get the best angle to post onto his accounts.

And the fact that he wanted to do that with her cat, that he genuinely seemed to like her so much and wasn't annoyed that they'd been interrupted at all, was what made her so fond of him.

They talked quietly for a bit, both of them slowly petting Tami—who was purring away and adoring the attention—before Adrien broke the pleasant atmosphere with an ill-timed remarked.

“You've still got it,” he said.

She blinked. “Eh?”

“The crystal,” Adrien clarified, tilting his head in the direction of her dresser. “I thought you might've—I don't know, thrown it away?”

“I—_no_,” Marinette quickly denied, horrified at the thought. “You—you gave me that. Why would I ever do that, Adrien?”

And as he reached up to run a hand through his hair, he flashed her a sheepish smile. “I was just worried, I guess.”

“Don't be,” she replied. “Please.”

It brought up a lot of questions, ever since the off-handed remark about Kim.

Did Adrien know what he'd given her, truly? Because it—it was beyond her why he would willingly give it up, if so. There was a chance that he didn't, that he only knew about Kim's abilities, but not what the source of them was from.

There were so many different explanations, but she didn't like any of them.

Did he know about her?

He couldn't.

No one had found out about her over the years, not since she'd came into her powers. Her parents had been careful when she was younger, made it so she didn't have a clue about their abilities at all until she was old enough to understand, and she and Chloé had been taught the right things.

There was no possible way he knew.

Tami's disappearances had been explained easily, and he'd bought them without question.

“Thanks,” he said softly. “For keeping it.”

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. “Of course.”

Tami's head was pressed against his thigh, and he was refusing to move, not wanting to disturb her. The sight was a sweet one, one that tugged at her heart from seeing him so affectionate with her cat, but it was sullied by the dull thoughts that were still swirling in her head.

She couldn't forget about him.

Alya's words that she hadn't heard of Kim before that night couldn't be forgotten.

That was—it could've been something not supernatural, explained by normal means, but it was Adrien's one word choice that was suddenly making her question everything. They'd known each other three months, and in that time, she'd thought that she was dating someone completely—completely normal.

As normal as everyone else, that was.

It was shattered in a moment.

“What's your family like?” she blurted.

Adrien didn't look startled.

Rather, he looked at her fondly as he gently stroked Tami's head. “A bit weird, I guess?” he replied with a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, they're not _bad_. Strict might be a good word.”

“Strict?” she questioned.

“Yeah,” Adrien confirmed. “I'm only allowed to live alone since I said I'd give them updates all the time. It's a bit—they're overbearing, but they do love me. I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining, but it was really... stifling growing up.”

Marinette asked, “What do you mean?”

Adrien didn't look her in the eyes, instead staring down at her cat as he answered, “I... I don't really know how to put it into words? There was like—there was a lot of pressure to live up to their standards, with my grades and everything. I wasn't allowed to do—do what I wanted? Like joining clubs for school, or even going out with friends that I'd made.”

Not quite sure how to reply to that, Marinette just nodded her head along with his words.

He started to scratch behind Tami's ear. “It was always... everything had to be approved, you know? If they didn't like the parents of my friend, I couldn't see them any more.”

“That sucks,” she lamely said.

“It does,” he agreed, smiling. “But I got used to it.”

“My parents were the same,” Marinette admitted, sympathising with him. “With the whole having to approve of their parents. That's why—my parents pulled me out of Kim's school, when we were younger. It would've made it awkward on the playground when they picked me up, I guess.”

He made a noise of agreement. “I had a driver pick me up most of the time.”

“All right, rich boy,” she teased, reaching out and shoving him lightly. “No need to show off now.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Adrien laughed. “Overprotective parents are weird, right?”

Marinette fell back against the mattress. “That doesn't even start to explain it.”

“True,” he said, joining her and turning on his side, careful not to disturb Tami in the process. “Would you—would you say you're still close to yours, even after coming to university?”

“Oh, yes,” Marinette replied without hesitation. “I never really—I don't resent them for anything, but it's... it's nice living away, but I do miss them.”

He hummed. “You're going back soon, aren't you?”

“Yeah,” she said. “My exams start next month.”

“I don't know what I'm doing yet,” he admitted. “But I'll tell you as soon as I can. So I can see you, if you want. I don't want to presume—”

“Adrien,” she interrupted, reaching out and taking his hand into hers. “Of course I want to see you. Even if it's over a screen because you're busy.”

He beamed. “Really?”

It made her feel warm inside. “Yeah.”

“Cute.” He squeezed her hand. “You're so _cute_.”

“Me?” Marinette laughed. “I think you mean you.”

He made a noise of disagreement. “I don't know about that.”

“I do,” she insisted. “And I think you're really cute.”

His hair was in his face, cheek squished against the mattress, but the sight of him smiling at her—and it reaching his bright, green-coloured eyes—was enough for her to grin right back at him, feeling nothing but fondness for him.

“That's good,” he started, bringing her hand up to his face and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Because you're kind of my girlfriend.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That was so greasy.”

He threw his head back and laughed.

-x-

Kim was the one to approach her.

Marinette had decided to keep the subject of Kim out of mind, only talking about him when Nino or Adrien brought him up, and it went well.

For a few weeks, until Kim turned up in the queue behind her.

She almost turned around and left when he tapped on her shoulder.

“Hi,” Kim greeted her, smiling. “Marinette, yeah?”

Her stomach felt tight. “Yeah.”

“Weird seeing you here,” he remarked. “Been a while. You good?”

There wasn't anything wrong with his expression—it was open, friendly—and his tone of voice was kind, too, but it was the sight of him that made her nervous. It should've been something great for someone like her to be at the university—but she didn't _know_ him.

If he really was a witch, he hadn't been raised with her, so there was no reason for them to know about each other.

But he knew something, didn't he?

“I'm good,” she replied flatly.

Kim's height meant that he didn't have to look to the side to see behind her as he asked, “Adrien not here?”

Either he didn't notice the change of tone, or he didn't care.

“No,” she said. “He's at his own university.”

Kim nodded his head as he said, “Yeah, that makes sense. No Nino?”

Marinette adjusted her grip on her wallet. “No.”

The queue shuffled forward, and she regretted still being there. The only reason she was still talking to Kim was she didn't want it to get back to Adrien, for Kim to tell him she'd been rude and hadn't wanted to talk. She could've come up with an excuse that she was late, but that seemed redundant when she was waiting in line as it was.

She shifted awkwardly on the spot.

Of all the things she expected him to say, it wasn't the declaration of, “You don't like me.”

Marinette stared at him in disbelief.

Kim's smile didn't reach his eyes. “Right?”

“I—what?” she stuttered, stunned by his forwardness.

“You don't have to stay here, you know?” he answered. “Not going to hurt my feelings and all that. I get it, dude.”

Except she didn't _get_ it. “Why?”

“You know,” he started, leaning forward, raising one hand and wiggling his fingers as he stared at her pointedly. “I'm not going to spread that shit around. It's cool.”

Her stomach clenched uncomfortably.

That was as much confirmation as she needed, wasn't it? And it was right there, on the campus coffee-shop, while they were standing in the middle of a queue, with other students able to listen in to their every word.

It was a split-second decision to grab him by the wrist and pull him along.

There was no resistance.

Her breaths were coming out fast by the time they'd made it to a side of a building, one that was empty of other students. They were far enough away from hearing distance, enough so for Marinette to retract her hand, taking a step back as she looked at him with wide eyes.

Kim didn't look bothered as he put his hands into the pocket of his shorts, whistling out a short tune.

He was the picture of nonchalance.

She swallowed. “What do you want?”

“Me?” Kim actually sounded baffled. “You're the one that dragged me here—”

“Why do you—” Marinette started before cutting herself off with a frustrated noise, running a hand through her hair. “I don't understand what you _want_. Why are you being so—so weird with all of this?”

He had the gall to lift up his hand and wiggle his fingers again. “This?”

“_Yes_!”

Kim snorted. “You're really not chill at all, are you?”

She was still holding onto her wallet.

“I don't know you,” Marinette said, sharply gesturing between the two of them with her free hand. “And you—this isn't something that can be spoke about so openly. Especially not at Adrien's.”

“Oh,” he said, drawing out the sound. “That's what this is about, yeah? Golden boy doesn't know.”

It should've stayed that way—to not have the sudden nerves, the speculation that he knew more than she was comfortable with him knowing.

And although it wasn't her place to ask, she wound up blurting out, “What does he know?”

“That's kind of a chat you two need to have,” Kim awkwardly explained, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “Not really something I should say, yeah? But he knows about me.”

Her stomach plummeted.

It must've been blatantly obvious on her expression because he took a step forward, even going as far as to put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hey, he's a chill dude, all right? There'll be no racism, I swear.”

She choked out a laugh. “Right.”

“Promise,” Kim said, grinning. Then, he lightly punched her shoulder that he'd been touching before he took a step back. “And I'm sure you're pretty cool when you're not close to shitting yourself. We might finally be friends now that your parents aren't here breathing down your neck because of me, yeah?”

It took a moment to sink in.

Kim waved as he announced, “I really do need to run to class now. Hit me up if you want to hang out—get my number from Adrien or whatever. See you!”

He ran away with a smile.

Marinette threw up on the wall.

-x-

Demons weren't—they weren't that different from witches.

They didn't have wrinkled skin, their bodies didn't become monstrous when they used their powers, and other than the crystals that they had in common, it was known that they could also have the same powers.

If anything, the only difference was the fact that when witches used their powers, nothing physically changed for them, while for demons, their irides turned red.

There were myths, of course. There were stereotypes—much like the joke that witches with plant-related powers were to them—which were made fun of, jokes and nicknames that were formed because of demons in the past, and Marinette's parents were very much raised to hate the other kind.

But just because she didn't believe in that didn't mean that she wanted anything to do with them.

There was a reason that she always hated the big meetings with the other witch families. The countless others that were like her, all wanting to show off theirs powers and talk about what they'd achieved—it wasn't _interesting_, not after years of experiencing it.

She hadn't really had the chance to interact with demons.

They were mostly kept isolated from each other, or obliviously ignorant of what the other was.

Her mother's words made sense, though.

Kim was the demon student, the one that she knew—even if she didn't technically remember him herself.

She didn't tell Chloé.

She didn't tell anyone.

Kim—Kim was an oddity. With every question answered about him, more popped up, but the difference that time was that they were about Nino and Adrien rather than him.

They been raised together, had they not?

“Nino and Adrien have been like this,” Alya started, holding up her index finger and thumb the tiniest bit apart, “since they were, like, four? It's kind of weird, but hey, I wish I had a friend that knew me that well.”

Marinette stirred her drink. “With Kim?”

“Apparently,” Alya muttered. “Not that I know much about that, though. I'm not high enough friendship-level to unlock that.”

She laughed. “Don't say that.”

“For real,” Alya insisted, pushing her spectacles further up her nose. “I try and ask some more, and Nino just—I don't know? He doesn't _talk_ about it. I can hear all about what Kim's done now, but not what classes they were in together?”

It just made her suspicions worse.

“Weird,” she agreed.

There wasn't much more information she got out of that, but it was enough.

She was sure some sort of magic was involved.

So, she tried to push her luck and asked Adrien, “What was Kim like in school?”

He looked at her in surprise.

“He bumped into me the other day,” she revealed, reaching up and fiddling with her earring. “We talked a bit before classes, and I just—I don't really know him, you know?”

“He was a goof,” Adrien replied, seeming to accept her explanation. “But I don't really see how this will help you? Hell, I haven't seen the dude in years. He might've cleaned up his act and stopped heckling others to try and get his way.”

The answer wasn't evasive enough to confirm her suspicions.

“Which class was he best at?”

Adrien raised his eyebrows. “What's with the sudden interest?”

She grimaced. “I'm just... curious.”

“Right.” He didn't sound convinced at all. “It's just—it's a bit out of the blue, isn't it?”

There wasn't a good lie to explain it away, was there? Not when she was trying to probe him to talk about his school-life with one person in particular, just to see whether he could mention the specifics.

Nino hadn't been able to.

“You said—” Marinette started, her throat feeling tight. “You said he was—can be a bit of a witch.”

His brow furrowed. “I did?”

Honesty was best, wasn't it?

“You did,” she quietly confirmed.

“Sure I didn't say bitch?” he questioned.

That was something she'd already asked herself.

Her heart was thudding in her chest as she replied, “Absolutely.”

Adrien hummed, not looking as though he was put on the spot at all. There was no sign of nerves on his face; no tension, his gentle expression hadn't dropped, and his tone hadn't changed from friendly as he said, “That doesn't sound quite right, but okay.”

There was a lot that could go wrong, but the only hurt she'd feel would be emotional.

“Why would you say that?” she choked out.

He stared at her for a moment, not saying anything.

And then, he opened his mouth, but no words came out before he closed it again. His expression shifted, his posture becoming more alert, and he was staring at her as though he hadn't seen her before.

Her hands felt clammy.

“You—” Adrien started, hushed and in awe. “You know?”

She didn't look away. “Do you?”

“Marinette,” Adrien whispered, shifting closer, their thighs touching on the sofa as he reached out and cupped her cheek.

His hand felt warm.

“I never—” Adrien sucked in a sharp breath, his expression nothing short of wonder as he stared into her eyes. “I just—I never dared to think it, you know?”

That answer was more telling than it should've been.

But her stomach still churned, the nerves there that had never been because of him before; it had been about the possibilities of Kim blabbing, not that Adrien could've been involved properly.

But it made sense, didn't it?

For him and Kim to have been raised together, for his reaction to be so—so earnest and hopeful, not asking her for a further explanation about why she was so hung up on a strange phrase, or the way he'd honed in the crystal in the store together.

It made her want to cry.

Her voice cracked as she asked, “You're a demon, aren't you?”

At her tone, his expression crumbled. “Aren't you?”

And as he hand started to fall away from her face, she put her own over the top of his, keeping it in place. “I'm not.”

“You're—you're not?” Adrien questioned, looking lost. “But I... I thought—”

Rather than focusing on his wrong conclusion, she settled with admitting, “I'm not human.”

That just made him stare at her.

He didn't recoil away in panic, didn't look at her in disgust, and the hand cupping her cheek didn't move away. The only thing that changed about him was the surprise that was flickering across his expression as he seemed to take her in, as though he needed that information to click in his mind.

The confirmation that he was a demon wasn't chilling.

There had been the wonder ever since Kim, those few days ago, but it wasn't fear that she felt because of it. The crystal in her bedroom was proof that he cared about her; that he'd been willing to give up such a rare find, something that people shed blood to steal from each other, or spent thousands for, and he'd given it to her just to see her smile because she thought it was pretty.

And if that didn't prove that he truly liked her, what would?

It meant more than she could express.

His tone was curious as he asked, “Witch?”

“What else?” she joked weakly.

“You're a witch,” Adrien stated, shocked. “You're—fuck.”

But his hand didn't drop away, and he was still sitting closely to her.

“I swear I don't use witch as an insult often,” he blurted, their intertwined hands falling down to her lap. “It was just—it's a shitty inside joke, okay? I swear I'm not racist.”

The laughter that escaped her was loud, maybe a bit hysterical. “Kim's already told me that.”

“_Kim_?”

“He told me to ask you,” Marinette revealed, squeezing his hand. “I—I thought you just knew about him, at first. But then again, I also thought that he was just a witch that I didn't know about.”

He almost choked on his laughter. “_Him_? A witch?”

“I didn't know!” Marinette defended herself. “It seemed like a pretty likely conclusion, okay? Plus, he kept, like, making jazz hands at me and implying stuff. It's not like he outright said it.”

“I mean, I thought it was possible that you're like me since that night at mine,” Adrien revealed. “I just—I didn't want to think about it being the other way, if you get me? It's not like I _hate_ witches or anything, but I... I've never really gotten to know them.”

She snorted. “Parents hate my kind?”

“Oh, that's putting it lightly,” he remarked. “Guessing it's the same for you?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “But a lot of us—the ones I still talk to—don't really think that way. It's just... it's kind of useless, isn't it?”

He nodded his head. “Totally.”

She adjusted fingers. “You're okay with me—with me being like this?”

“Marinette,” Adrien started, looking at her earnestly. “How could I not be? You're—I think you're wonderful. I really, really do.”

Her face felt warm. “Really?”

“So much,” he confirmed, reaching out and pulling her into a one-armed hug. “Even if you—I don't know—can only make candles flicker. I'd still dig the hell out of you.”

With a laugh, she leaned into him, putting her head into his shoulder. “That's so lame.”

“The power or my declaration of undying love?”

“Both.” She grinned. “They're both pretty sucky, aren't they?”

He sniffed. “How dare you.”

She patted his thigh. “I'd still like you, too, candle boy.”

“I can do more than _candles_!”

Marinette hummed. “Are you going to tell me what, then?”

“I don't think you deserve to know right now,” he declared, raising his chin haughtily. “If you guess right, I'll say yes.”

“The same for you, then.” She childishly stuck her tongue out. “Let's see how you like it.”

Adrien started to protest, “Hey, that's not fair—”

Her laughter was muffled against his t-shirt.

-x-

Chloé wasn't happy.

It might've had to do with it being Adrien that brought up the topic, and not Marinette, and all Marinette wanted to do was hide behind the sofa and pretend that it wasn't happening.

Chloé had been nice—as nice as she could be—and was actually making conversation with him, not looking like she wanted to do anything else than be in his presence.

But it was ruined by Adrien looking at her with a bright smile and asking, “Are you a witch, too?”

Marinette turned on her heel, walking across the room and darting into her bedroom.

Chloé caught up to her in a matter of seconds, slamming the door shut behind them.

There was an awkward silence.

Adrien didn't try and follow them.

“I was going to tell you,” Marinette started, holding up her hands with her palms visible, as though she was trying to soothe an angry animal. “I swear, I was just—I was trying to find the right time, okay?”

“Right time?” Chloé repeated, angrily pointing to the door. “Do you call this the right time?”

She grimaced. “I fucked up—”

“You said you didn't talk to him about it!” Chloé exclaimed. “You—you lied to me, Marinette! We don't do _that_!”

She weakly protested, “It's not my secret to share?”

“And this was yours?”

“He doesn't know about you,” Marinette lamely said. “That's why he asked.”

Chloé laugh was forced. “Yeah, because that makes me feel _so_ much better.”

As much as she didn't feel like she could tell her about Adrien, Kim was a different matter. She didn't feel any loyalty towards him.

Her voice was quiet as she explained, “Kim's a demon.”

To her credit, Chloé just looked at her with narrowed eyes. “What?”

“Adrien's friend, Kim,” she said. “The one that Adrien called a witch before? It was an inside joke, or whatever, so, there's that.”

“Why the fuck are you only telling me now?”

“I didn't see why I had to,” Marinette answered, running a hand through her hair. “I just—I was just going to let it be, and see what would happen? It's not like they're dangerous or anything.”

Chloé asked, “They're?”

“Kim, I mean,” she quickly explained. “I—I might've told Adrien I'm a witch, but I swear, that's all. He doesn't know anything else about us.”

Chloé sat on the edge of the bed, crossing her arms. “And you're still dating?”

“Well, yeah?” Marinette blinked. “Not like it was anything ground-breaking.”

“You admitted to not being human,” Chloé said slowly. “He's fucking fine with it, and you said nothing to me?”

She grimaced. “It was only, like, two days ago.”

“You lied to my _face—_”

“I was nervous!” Marinette exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I—I was leading up to it eventually, okay? It's not like I could've kept it a secret forever.”

“Marinette—”

The interruption wasn't from either of them.

It was a knock at the bedroom door, and definitely not from Tami bumping her head against it, trying to get in.

There was only one person that it could've been.

Chloé glowered at it. “What do you want?”

Adrien's voice drifted through to ask, “Can I come in?” And when neither of them jumped to reply, he added on, “Please?”

Marinette breathed out slowly. “Sure.”

A nervous smile was present on his face as he took a cautious step into the room, Tami following after him. In a direct contrast to how shy he seemed, Tami ran through, jumping onto the bed and butting her head against Chloé's arm, trying to get her attention.

Chloé was scowling at Adrien while petting her.

“Sorry,” Adrien started, clearing his throat. “It's just—I could hear you out there, so I thought I should come and explain myself?”

There was no mistaking that it came out sounding like a question.

“So,” he said, drawing out the sound. “Hi, I'm a demon.”

Chloé snorted. “Yeah, I got that already.”

“Yeah, but I thought you already knew,” he awkwardly explained, reaching up and touching the back of his neck, fingers touching the hairs there. “I—I never would've put you in that position if I knew otherwise. I just—I wasn't thinking right.”

Marinette lamely offered, “My fault.”

“Fucking understatement,” Chloé muttered.

“I'm sorry!” she exclaimed. “I'm awful, I get it. Can we please get over it for now?”

Chloé's murderous expression was completely ruined by the purring cat that was rubbing against her arm, practically stretched out across her lap. “Maybe.”

“I'm not going to tell anyone about you, if that's what you're worried about,” Adrien spoke up. “Not my, like, clan or anything.”

Marinette's brow furrowed. “Clan?”

“Whatever you call it,” he explained with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No worries about me starting some pathetic rivalry. I really don't care what you are.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then, he quickly said, “Not that I don't _like _it—I meant that it doesn't bother me! Not that it should—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Chloé advised.

“Shutting up,” Adrien agreed, going as far as to mime zipping his mouth shut.

Marinette couldn't help but laugh.

“You, too,” Chloé said.

She held her hands up in a sign of surrender.

Chloé—who had started to cradle Tami in her arms at that point—looked between the two of them, a frown on her lips. “So,” she started. “You two idiots are still dating?”

“Well, yeah?” Adrien replied.

It was the exact reaction that she'd had in the beginning, and it was because of that that Marinette burst out into laughter again. And when she saw Chloé's glare combined with Adrien's bewildered expression, it just made it all that much worse.

Her shoulders shook with her laughter.

“Fucking hell, fine.” Chloé sighed. “But I'm not the one breaking it to our parents.”

There was no reason for the topic of races to even come up. There was no way for someone to tell what the other was without actually witnessing them using their powers—so, for all they knew, she'd just be dating a normal boy.

“It'll be fine.” Marinette dabbed at her damp eyes with the palm of her hand. “It's not like they'll even know, right?”

“About that—” Adrien started with a grimace. “My surname might be a giveaway there.”

Marinette asked, “Why?”

“My mother's kind of the clan leader in this city?” It came out sounding like a question. “I mean, she _is_. It's been passed down in her family for generations, so it—it would kind of stick out.”

Chloé fell back against the mattress, staring up at the ceiling, Tami still in her arms. “Of course she fucking is.”

“But it's not like they even do anything any more,” Marinette protested. “I mean, good for your family? But I haven't even heard of them before.”

“Because you don't care,” he pointed out. “We're not petty like them.”

“I'm fed up with this already,” Chloé announced. “The amount of bullshit I'll have to hear if anyone finds out isn't worth you two fucking.”

Marinette exclaimed, “_Chloé_!”

“I'm being honest!”

“I'll just,” Adrien said, pointing towards the door before swiftly walking through it.

It was a bit of a disaster.

But that didn't mean that the events afterwards were. Adrien was just as willing to be with her as before, carefully not bringing up the topic of what Chloé was—which was wise—and it meant that she understood some more about his family's protectiveness over him due to their position of power.

“My coven doesn't really have that,” she mused.

He choked out a laugh. “Coven?”

“Whatever you want to call it,” Marinette retorted. “Doesn't clan just sound like you're playing a game?”

He winked. “Life's a game, right?”

“Fuck off.”

Adrien laughed.

“We don't really have a leader, I mean,” she clarified. “We, like, meet up every now and then for a family get-together? So it's just a meet-and-greet and then I don't see anyone else for a year or so. It's pretty pointless, if you ask me.”

Curiously, he asked, “You don't all live near each other?”

“No,” she confirmed. “I went to the same school as Chloé, but I didn't really know anything was different about her until we found out about our powers later on.”

He hummed. “I grew up with Nino as my neighbour.”

“I bet you loved that,” she remarked. Then, it really clicked what it said. “Wait, is he—”

“Yeah,” Adrien admitted, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. “I probably shouldn't have said that, but I doubt he'd mind. He'd love to know about you, actually.”

It was even weirder that Nino was a demon. Nino had been her friend for months, had been one of the nicest strangers that she'd ever met, and he'd taken her under his and Alya's wing without much hesitation, even after she'd awkwardly told a joke that had landed flat.

It didn't make her view him negatively. There wasn't a prejudice that she was raised to believe in—not that she'd fallen into—and it was just curiosity that she felt at that moment. To know more things about her friends that she hadn't expected, and to actually have the chance to talk to a demon one-on-one, something she'd only gotten to do very briefly while she was growing up.

Hell, dating a demon had never been the plan, let alone being best friends with one.

Her parents would be so proud.

“Does... does Alya know?” she stuttered out.

Adrien looked a bit sheepish. “She might know a few things.”

“A few?” she asked.

“Yeah, not everything,” Adrien admitted. “She knows what we are, but not... how we get our powers? Actually, I've never actually shown her mine. She's only seen Nino's before.”

Marinette nodded her head. “And what is yours?”

“Nice try,” he teased. “But I'm not telling you, remember?”

“Mean.”

“You're mean for making fun of my clan,” he shot back, waggling his index finger at her disapprovingly. “That could be grounds for a life-long rivalry, you know.”

She laughed. “Can't we just get married instead?”

“That does sound like the same thing, yes,” he mused. “But I need to see if I even want you to be my valentine next year, so we'll have to wait.”

Marinette's smile reached her eyes as she agreed, “You're right, that's very important.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Adrien said, reaching out and patting the top of her hand. “I have something to propose to you, and it's not marriage.”

“What do you mean it's not?” She sniffed. “I'm heartbroken.”

“I've already told you to wait,” he chastised. “How about we rate how useful our powers are? To give each other a clue.”

Marinette made a show of thinking it over. “That's a bit difficult. Is it how useful it is to us on an everyday basis, or everyone else?”

“Us, of course,” he replied. “Who cares about anyone else? Don't be ridiculous, Marinette.”

She grinned. “Of course.”

The guesses he'd used thus far had all been shot down; she definitely couldn't make candles flicker, couldn't only make flowers bloom, and she couldn't make her body act as a magnet. And while his choices had all been pretty useless, she'd asked much the same.

Adrien couldn't only change his foot size.

In her defence, she did actually know someone that had that one power.

It cracked him up to hear that.

“I'd... rate mine a nine, I think,” he mused. “It's not, like, something that I'd be lost without, but it definitely makes a lot of things easier—so _many_.”

She snorted. “Yeah, that really helps me out.”

“Nino's very jealous, if that helps,” he replied with a grin.

“It doesn't, thanks,” Marinette retorted.

There wasn't an easy way to rate her powers. Before Tami had passed away—that very first time—she'd mostly just entertained herself by bringing insects back alive, not quite realising that it was a bit horrifying to see from the outside.

A bird had only lasted a week before.

Tami was the biggest she'd brought back, and ever since then, she'd saved up her powers between, leaving her dead cat in a stasis where she wouldn't decay any further while she waited to have enough to bring her back to life. Marinette had always wondered what else her powers would apply to, but when she cared about something as much as Tami, she didn't want to try.

She also didn't want to think about trying to bring back a family member.

Not that Tami _wasn't_ one—but the thought of a human being being under her control was terrifying.

There was a reason witches were so secretive with their powers.

There wasn't a large community of them that happily used their powers to help each other, not like there used to be when crystals weren't so scarce. But that was decades ago—maybe centuries—and since then, people had become selfish.

Marinette was as selfish as they came.

Chloé, too. If anyone knew that she could heal injuries within a blink of an eye, they would've come to her for everything.

“I wouldn't say mine's... useful?” Marinette began, thinking over her words. “But without it, I'd probably be really depressed. Well, no, I would've gotten over that years ago, but I—this is hard to explain without actually telling you.”

He hummed. “Give me a number, then.”

“Two?” she weakly proposed. “But if it was the olden times, I'd have countless people knocking on my door, wanting it to be used.”

Adrien shook his head. “Yeah, that doesn't help at all.”

“I did warn you.”

“Does your—” Adrien started before clearing his throat. “Does your—your coven actually advertise their powers, or is it all secretive and a need-to-know basis?”

She held up two fingers as her response. “What about yours?”

“Only the higher-ups are publicly known,” he answered. “Which means my family, along with a few others. They're—they're usually the suggest ones, and have access to the vault.”

“I'm sorry, what?” she asked. “Vault?”

He waved a hand. “Treasure trove of crystals.”

“We definitely don't have that,” Marinette revealed. “Just personal collections. No one... we don't really share them with others, not outside of close family.”

“That's probably smart,” he said. “It gets a bit—it's violent, sometimes. There's sometimes competitions—which are actually just excuses to use their powers in front of others—and the winner gets one crystal. But that hasn't happened for a while now.”

That was something her people would never do, and not because they saw each other so infrequently. “No?”

“There's kind of—well, people can _try_ and challenge my mother for leadership and the responsibilities that come with it, but it ended up in disaster the last time,” he explained. “It was years ago, but that's why I haven't seen Kim in forever.”

“I thought someone—I mean, _does_ someone have a control power?” Marinette questioned. “Because Alya... Alya said that she hadn't heard about Kim before, and even now, Nino can't really say much about him.”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” she prompted.

“Everyone kind of got told... not to talk about them, not when they got kicked out,” he glumly replied, resting his chin in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. “It was a mess.”

Tentatively, she said, “But not you.”

“Not me,” he agreed. “My father doesn't like to use that on me.”

That was it, then.

“Father,” Marinette repeated, stumped.

“Second-in-command and all that,” Adrien revealed.

It sounded so foreign to her.

There was no higher-ups, no secret stash of crystals that people could fight each other for the right to own one—there were just awkward family reunions where Marinette got her cheeks kissed far too many times, and Chloé looked close to drinking far too much champagne in an attempt to drown her sorrows.

The most they had to worry about were being told stories from others' glory days, back when they had an on-going feud with some demon they'd happened to know.

There wasn't any fighting on the streets any more, no one advertised their status, and if Adrien hadn't introduced her to Kim, she wouldn't have realised that anything was amiss about him.

It would've continued on like nothing had happened.

And yet, instead, she was finding out more about demon culture that she'd ever thought she'd know.

“I've never heard anything like this before,” she whispered. “It's—no one has anything to say like this about you lot.”

“Us lot?” Adrien questioned, raising his eyebrows. But instead of sounding offended, he was just amused. “That's mighty offensive coming from a witch like you.”

She snorted. “I'm just a humble witch.”

“Humble, my ass,” he muttered.

She hit his shoulder lightly. “Don't bully me.”

“I'd _never_,” Adrien responded. “I'm just—this doesn't change anything between us, okay?”

“Okay,” she repeated, lips curling into a smile. “I believe you.”

And as he lifted himself up to sit up properly again, Marinette leaned forward, their noses brushing before he placed a chaste kiss to her lips, not seeking anything more passionate or intimate. But the small contact, the tiny reassurance that he was interested and comfortable with her, was all she needed for her smile to grow wider.

It didn't matter that she was everything that she'd been warned to stay away from.

“I'd still like you, even if you could only grow your nails,” she revealed in a whisper.

Adrien's laughter was wonderful to hear. “Yeah, it's definitely not that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” he confirmed, pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth. “But are you sure it's not yours?”

She snickered. “Sorry, it's not.”

“Darn,” he said through his laughter. “There goes my dream.”

-x-

Chloé forgave her after a week.

“Love me,” Marinette complained, going as far as to stretch out on the sofa, putting her head in her friend's lap.

Chloé promptly shoved her onto the floor.

“That hurts,” she complained, rolling over so she could stare up at Chloé, purposely jutting her lower lip out. “You wouldn't do that to Tami.”

“Because I love Tami,” Chloé proclaimed. “And I hate you.”

She sniffed. “How could you?”

“I'm using you for your cat,” Chloé replied.

“But isn't she ours?” she questioned.

“Fuck off.”

For as upset as Chloé that she had to find out something important from someone she disliked, that was easily pushed aside by Marinette telling her everything she'd learned about demons from Adrien.

They were both equally as baffled by how intertwined demon families seemed to be, while the two of them had barely known each other growing up. The only reason they were together was because they'd happened to bond at school, not because their families had pushed them towards each other.

She dreaded to think how they would've gotten along if they'd lived side-by-side from the beginning.

“It sounds like a cult,” Chloé deadpanned.

Marinette couldn't really disagree to that.

Because it did, kind of, when in comparison to their own. There was no gathering of people that lived on the same street, no leader to turn to for advice, and definitely no tournaments for fighting.

“There's a few people I'd like to fight to the death,” Chloé mused.

“Not to the death,” Marinette corrected. “Until the other surrenders.”

“How the fuck would I lose if I heal?” Chloé proposed. “That's it. It's my calling in life to kick ass.”

She almost cackled. “Except you'd have to get sweaty for that.”

“Fuck off, Marinette,” Chloé retorted.

“I'm sure you'll find someone to fight you someday,” Marinette said, reaching out and patting Chloé's knee in sympathy. “But until then, want to come over to Adrien's with me?”

“Yeah, fuck no.”

Marinette complained, “Come on, you don't hate him!”

“That doesn't mean I want to see his face so soon,” Chloé shot back. “Anyway, I'm already going out. Have fun with your walk of shame later.”

Sitting up and smoothing her hair out, Marinette glared at her. “We haven't slept together yet.”

Chloé made a disapproving noise. “No wonder you're so pissy.”

“I will kick you,” Marinette threatened. “I'll fucking do it.”

Chloé just tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Do him instead, maybe.”

“You're the _worst_.”

With a small backpack filled with the belongings she needed to take, Marinette scratched Tami's head on her way past, holding up her hand in a crude gesture for Chloé to see in the kitchen on her way out.

Adrien had stopped protesting about her taking the bus to see him.

It turned out to be a good thing that Chloé had rejected coming over, because when Adrien answered the door and let her inside, he leaned down to whisper in her ear that Nino was over.

“Oh, hell yes,” Nino announced at the sight of her, purposely reaching out on the sofa beside him, tapping the cushion. “Come here, come here.”

Marinette shared a wary look with Adrien before sitting down in the requested seat, a bit stiffly.

“Welcome to the family,” Nino said, happily wrapping an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a half-hearted hug. “Can't say I saw it coming, but it's a good surprise, man.”

A bit overwhelmed, all Marinette could reply was, “Thanks?”

Not deterred at all, Nino continued on to say, “So, I'm your demon bro now.”

She spluttered out a laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, dude,” he insisted. “And before you ask, all I can do is control electricity a little.”

She blinked. “I'm sorry, you can do what?”

“Not, like, amazingly,” Nino explained, releasing her from the hug to move his hand along with his words. “I only ever use it to recharge my phone if it's really needed.”

Marinette turned to look at Adrien. “Is he serious?”

“Yes,” Adrien confirmed, shrugging his shoulders. “It's a party trick sometimes.”

“Only when I was a kid!” Nino protested. “I'm much more responsible now, I swear.”

“Yeah, is that why I saw you use it for Alya last week?”

Nino laughed. “That's different.”

Adrien just rolled his eyes. “I'm sure.”

“You're worse,” Nino accused.

“No, no,” Adrien quickly said. “Marinette doesn't know, remember? She's trying to guess.”

Marinette nodded her head. “But I'll take any hints you're willing to give.”

“Isn't that cheating?” Adrien asked.

“Fuck off,” she said.

“Okay, I'm fucking off now,” he replied with a laugh, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender before he walked towards the kitchen. He asked them what they wanted to drink, or whether they wanted any snacks, but he didn't really get a concrete answer when Nino started to talk to her immediately.

Nino was excited, that was the best way to describe it.

“I never thought I'd meet anyone like you,” he confessed. “I mean, I had some pen-pals online, but we never met up, so I've never seen anyone's powers in person.”

She pursed her lips. “That's all you want from me?”

“And your company, of course,” Nino said, patting the top of her head twice. “But, seriously, can I see someday?”

“You're not asking to see right now?”

“No,” he whispered, going as far as he to hold a hand up and hold it to one side of his mouth. “Not while Adrien's here. Don't even tell me.”

Looking over to where Adrien was across the room, surely out of hearing distance if they were to whisper to had to ask, “Really?”

“I'm impatient as hell, but yeah,” Nino said.

But since Nino had been so forthcoming with his powers, welcoming her within seconds, she offered, “I could always text it to you.”

His eyes grew wide behind his spectacles. “_Really_?”

“I mean, yeah?” Marinette replied, feeling a bit self-conscious. “You told me yours, so it's only fair, right?”

The answer she got was in the form of him enthusiastically getting his phone out of his pocket, opening up their conversation.

There wasn't any harm in it, was there?

And so, she told him.

“No shit?” Nino whispered, glancing up to see whether she was joking. “For real?”

She grinned. “Yes.”

“That's—that's so fucking cool,” he said, still trying to keep his voice quiet. “That's like—I don't know, I've only heard rumours about that before. I never actually thought anyone _could_ do that.”

“I haven't really got much experience,” she revealed, cheeks feeling warm from how awestruck he looked at that moment. “But it's... I like that it's my power.”

He laughed. “Dark.”

“Is it, though?” Marinette asked. “It's not all doom and gloom like in films.”

“What the fuck do you do with it, then?” Nino asked, the two of them still talking cryptically. Even if the conversation drifted over to Adrien, he wouldn't be able to deduce what they were talking about.

Marinette opened up the album on her phone to a picture of Tami.

It took a moment to click, and when it did, Nino's expression was comical.

“Holy shit,” he swore.

Marinette laughed. “Yeah.”

“Dude, you're never going to guess it,” Nino called out, gesturing for Marinette to put her phone away as Adrien walked back over to them, juggling cans of drinks in his arms. “Like, seriously, just give up now.”

“Reassuring,” he muttered.

“I'm not kidding,” Nino insisted. “It's the coolest shit.”

Marinette mused, “I don't think anyone's ever said that about it before.”

“They're dumb, then,” Nino immediately replied, plucking a can straight from Adrien's arms, wasting no time in opening it and taking a long sip. “You'd be a higher-up, no question about it.”

She blinked. “Your standards are that low?”

“Low?” Nino cackled. “I don't think so, Mari.”

“It's not _that_ good,” she insisted.

He looked at her in disapproval. “You're not good at valuing yourself, then.”

“Stop flirting,” Adrien chastised. “And talking in riddles. I get restless when I'm ignored.”

The can she was given was cold, and she happily held it up against her cheek as she asked him, “Are you jealous?”

Adrien sniffed. “Terribly.”

“Dude's a straight up sulker,” Nino said to her, not even trying to whisper. “I can't tell you the amount of times he's whined that you're busy, or that he's thought he's done something to annoy you—”

“Okay!” Adrien loudly exclaimed. “That's enough of that.”

“I don't know,” Marinette mused. “I was enjoying that.”

He crossed his arms, sinking back in his seat. “You find enjoyment from my pain?”

“Oh, definitely.” She took a sip of her drink. “You can't, like, only talk to lizards, can you?”

If possible, he tried to look even more upset than before. “No,” he muttered.

Beside her, Nino laughed. “He wishes.”

“I like animals,” Adrien retorted. “That would be a cool power.”

“I'd like it,” Marinette agreed.

It turned into the three of them listing of powers; from the worst they could think of—such as only being able to control ants—or the big ones that were only talked about in myths, and had actually rarely been seen in public.

There was a lot of differences between them. When Marinette said one that she thought was absurd, like only being able to shed the hair on their body on command, Adrien and Nino had burst into laughter, revealing that they really did know someone that could do that.

“Lost one eyebrow before,” Nino revealed through his laughter. “It was—it was some asshole that we grew up with, and, boy, him learning his power was the funniest fucking thing.”

Adrien snickered. “He couldn't grow it back at will.”

It was the weirdest thing, just swapping stories about the people that they grew up with. But unlike them, Marinette didn't know the powers of many people.

She decided to stick to a simple one, confessing to them that her father had a knack for painting, even though his actual drawings with pen and pencils always turned out awful.

“It's just with paint,” she said, smiling from recalling all the terrible drawings they'd done together when she was little. “Everything else is... well, interesting, but his paintings always sell really well when he finds the time to do them.”

Adrien sounded impressed as he remarked, “Handy.”

She shrugged, feeling proud.

“Is it creative?” Adrien asked. “Yours?”

Nino snickered. “In some ways.”

Marinette shoved Nino lightly. “I mean... maybe? But if you mean, like, the arts, I'd have to say no.”

Adrien squinted. “That literally makes no sense.”

“No,” she repeated, more confident. “It's not creative.”

He sagged back against the seat. “I don't know.”

Her smile showed her teeth. “Good luck.”

-x-

It wasn't her power that he saw first.

Adrien had come into her apartment, sat with Chloé for a bit while Marinette finished getting ready for their date, and it was when she was putting on her shoes that she managed to trip over Tami and bang her head on the corner of her dresser.

She yelled out in pain.

There was a bit there, redness building on her forehead, and she was holding a hand to it when her bedroom door opened, revealing the two of them looking at her in concern.

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked.

Chloé didn't pay him any mind, kneeling down beside her and slapping her hand away from her forehead without any hesitation. Chloé didn't look back at the other person in the room, barely paid any attention to him, and it was after a few seconds that Chloé pulled her hand away as though nothing had happened.

There was a small bit of blood smeared on it, but that was all.

Marinette's forehead still throbbed with a pain as she winced and said, “Thank you.”

“Idiot,” Chloé chastised, looking down at her hand as though it had personally offended her. “But fucking gross. I'm going to wash my hand.”

Chloé left the room without saying anything to Adrien on the way out.

To his credit, he didn't know what had happened at first. He quickly moved to stand in front of her, offering out a hand to pull her up to her feet, and Marinette graciously accepted it, the dull pain still present in her head for a while longer.

It always lasted longer than the injury when Chloé was involved.

And as Adrien touched her face, brushing her hair aside to try and assess the damage, all he ask was, “What?”

There was surely only blood there, the broken skin smoothed out and no longer red. There was bound to be no bruise, too.

“Witch,” Marinette said.

He ran his thumb over the healed skin.

Marinette winced. “There's still pain for a bit.”

“But—how?” he questioned, perplexed.

“Takes more power to heal that, too,” she admitted. “Not worth it for something this small.”

“That's fucking amazing,” Adrien remarked, still looking at her with wide eyes. “I—that was Chloé, right?”

She laughed. “Yeah, definitely not me.”

“I'm jealous,” he said. “That's—_man_.”

There wasn't really words to describe it properly, and that was how she'd felt when she was younger, still trying to understand everything that was happening. Chloé was older, had come into her powers before her, and Marinette had been a bit perturbed when all she could do was reanimate a dead fly that she'd found on the windowsill.

“Don't feed her ego,” she joked.

Adrien shook his head. “I'm going to worship her in hopes she'll take pity on me one day.”

“She really doesn't need a follower,” she teased. “Especially not my boyfriend.”

The fact that Chloé had felt comfortable enough to use her powers in front of Adrien meant that she trusted him to some degree. Sure, she wouldn't say it aloud, but Marinette doubted she would ever do that in front of Nino, let alone anyone else from their own coven.

That was definitely a sign of approval for their relationship.

It made her feel giddy.

As she knew that Chloé would only push her away when someone else was in front of them, she sent her a string of heart emojis when she'd left with Adrien.

The message showed that Chloé had read it.

Then, almost half an hour later, she received a single heart from her.

She smiled widely at that.

It seemed like nothing could go wrong at that point. Adrien and Nino had welcomed her without any qualms, were more than happy to talk to her about what they could, and they all had fun guessing powers (despite Nino being in the know about her). There was something that hadn't been there before; the knowledge of each other had made it so they were closer than before, and even though she'd always felt closer to Alya than Nino in the short time they'd known each other, she'd come to treasure him more.

She truly trusted them.

It was never in her plan to reveal herself to Alya.

Adrien had confessed that although he liked her—loved her, even—there was no reason for him to tell Alya more about himself, not when it didn't benefit her. There wasn't going to a chance for him to use his power for her gain in any way, and he'd rather keep it to himself.

It was like that for her, too.

Alya was a human friend, one that just so happened to know that her boyfriend and his friend was a demon, and that was how it was going to remain.

Absolutely.

What wasn't in the plan, however, was for Marinette to be too preoccupied with an exam to realise that her power was dwindling. There was a certain feeling, a tightness inside her that she couldn't really describe properly when Chloé asked, and when she wasn't focusing on it, it was hard to keep track of.

She was the one to find Tami curled up and stiff that time.

But because Tami had been touched with her power before, she wouldn't decay. She'd stay the same, wouldn't rot, and it didn't take any more of Marinette's powers to keep her that way.

It was a lingering effect that she had no control over.

She hadn't found any more crystals online, and she didn't want to dive into her stash, not when her birthday was within a few months. Marinette had a few exams left before the year was over, and then she and Chloé would travel back to their family home, and spend the summer there until term began again.

Tami would be fine.

Adrien accepted the excuse of Tami sleeping away underneath her bed without question, and he didn't want to disturb her.

The two of them stayed out in the living room, curled up together on the creaky sofa.

“Still planning to see me over the summer?” Marinette asked.

“Oh, yes,” Adrien responded. “If you still want to, that is.”

“Definitely,” she confirmed, pressing her cheek into his chest, adjusting herself to get more comfortable, the two of them stretched out and intertwined. “Sure you can play the part of my wonderfully human boyfriend?”

His body shook as he laughed. “I can have control of my power, yes.”

“Cool.” She just—she felt so happy with him. “I mean, that's cool. Great. I'm looking forward to it.”

Adrien tapped her nose. “I've got a summer home near you, so I could—well, I could crash there, if you want?”

“Really?” she questioning.

“Alya lives near you,” he revealed. “Not, like, next-door, but within walking distance. Nino's already been saving up to try and find somewhere to stay near her for a bit, so this'll be good for both of us.”

She whistled. “Convenient.”

“I'd offer for you to come to mine, but you'd probably hate it,” Adrien admitted, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “My mother would adore you, though. It's just—they're very... protective. You'll be asked about _everything_.”

Unable to resist the temptation, she enquired, “Am I your dirty secret?”

“No, of course not,” Adrien assured her. “They know I'm dating, just not... who.”

“That's more than me,” she confessed. “I'm dropping the bomb when I'm at home. It'll be so much better face-to-face.”

“Not right before I meet them, I hope,” he joked.

She laughed. “I'm not that evil.”

“Chloé's going to be there, right?” he questioned.

“She does live with me,” she reminded him. “And, hey, as long as you don't turn up with Nino, it'll all be fine. She actually likes you.”

He muttered, “You say that, but I don't believe you.”

It was silly, a passing comment in a conversation, but it made her laugh until she barely any sound was coming out. Marinette had her face pressed into his chest, smiling ever-so-widely, and Adrien just loosely held her, clearly amused by her reaction the whole time.

There was so much that she liked about him; from his mannerisms, the way he scrunched his nose when he read something he didn't like, and the wonderful way that he made her feel—and when they were together, those feelings were only amplified.

She didn't resent him for what he was, not at all. There was nothing wrong with him being different.

She wasn't narrow-minded, didn't feel the need to dislike him because his irides happened to change colour when he used his powers. If anything, it made her feel closer to him, their shared experiences something she'd never thought she'd have.

Resting her head cheek against his chest again, an arm wrapping around his middle, Marinette quietly asked, “Any guesses today?”

“A magical power that makes me love you?” he joked.

“Nope, not that,” she answered, laughing. “That would just be mean, wouldn't it?”

Adrien agreed with her there.

They joked for a bit, the two of them just chatting, happy to be hugging and lazing around, not focusing on anything else. The original plan had been to watch a film together, but that had been pushed aside for talking instead—something they probably would've ended up doing in the first place.

Adrien only agreed to watch it with her because she wanted to.

It was sweet of him.

He sighed. “I don't know.”

“You don't know a lot, do you?” she teased.

“That's rude,” he accused, but there was no heat to his words. “There's a lot of things you don't know about me.”

To placate him, she asked, “Oh, really?”

“I like you,” Adrien confessed, embracing her closer. “I really, really like you.”

She sniffed. “But I've said that to you before.”

“Yeah, but now I'm going to say I might even love you,” he teased, reaching out and tapping the end of her nose. “I bet you feel silly now, eh?”

There was a warm feeling in her chest. “Only might?”

“I've got to rethink it from all the abuse,” Adrien whispered, as though he was telling her a great secret. “I'll get back to you with my answer.”

She snorted. “Sure, please do.”

“I promise.” She could practically hear the smile in his voice. “And do you know what else you don't know?”

Intrigued, she enquired, “And what's that?”

“I can hear a lot of things.”

There was a moment where she didn't know what to say to that. Adrien didn't offer any more explanation than that, as though that was _all_ he needed to say.

It wasn't.

So, Marinette's respond came out uncertain as she replied, “...Cool?”

He laughed abruptly. “No, I mean—that's my power.”

“Hearing,” she said.

“Hearing,” he repeated plainly. “As in, if I focus hard, I can hear more than offers. It's like... if you strain to do something? It's a bit uncomfortable, but it can come in handy, I guess.”

It had never even crossed her mind.

Outraged, she sat up, turning to look at him as she exclaimed, “I never would've gotten that!”

His smile reached his eyes. “It's not my fault you're an idiot.”

“_Adrien—_”

“Nino said I'll never get yours,” he pointed out, raising his eyebrows. “So, this is me giving in. I claim defeat to your mighty powers.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”

“Oh, come on.” Adrien laughed. “I surrender!”

“No, you're admitting you're a loser,” Marinette replied, sitting upright and crossing her arms over her chest. “And I'm the winner. Forever.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“It sounds like you're a sore loser,” she mused, squinting at him. “What made you give in?”

“I'm just so damn curious,” Adrien confessed. “And your clues are awful. I literally have no idea what you can do.”

Just like Kim had done, Marinette raised a hand and wiggled her fingers. “Witchy things.”

“I will push you on the floor,” he threatened.

Marinette beamed. “Sure you want to know?”

“I did admit defeat, did I not?”

“Okay,” she started. “If you're sure.”

Adrien shifted and sat up with her, turning his body so his feet were on the floor. “...Your stalling is making me nervous.”

“Nino's reaction made me realise I need to be dramatic about this,” Marinette replied, reaching up and tucking some stray hairs behind her ears. “After all, he keeps insisting that it's better than yours.”

He sniffed. “That's mean.”

“Last chance to take back being a loser,” she offered.

Adrien purposely looked at her with a smile, making a show of putting his hands in his lap, looking as though he was ready to be told a story.

It made her laugh.

“Okay, then,” Marinette said. “I can reanimate the dead.”

“I'm sorry,” Adrien started, looking startled. “You can—_what_?”

“Raise the dead,” she patiently explained. “Not like zombies, but I can bring the dead back as they were before. It's just—it drains me, that's all.”

He blinked.

She waited for a bigger reaction.

Then, when he spoke, his tone was incredulous. “You—what? For real?”

“Tami's dead,” Marinette blurted. “I mean, she was before. She died for the first time years ago, but she is dead right now.”

“Tami _died_?”

Marinette sheepishly replied, “I'm kind of drained.”

But that wasn't what he wanted to focus on. “Tami's dead!”

“She's okay,” she assured him, trying to be comforting as she reached out and took his hands into her own. “She's just—resting in my room, I guess. Nothing's going to happen to her.”

Adrien sucked in a breath. “How did she die?”

It was nice to see that he actually cared about Tami. Sure, the affection he'd always given her had been telling, but his reaction to hearing about her death so suddenly—it made Marinette love him all that much more.

“An accident,” Marinette said. “But she—while she's like this, she won't... she won't rot or anything, I swear. She'll just look like she's sleeping for a while.”

She could see it as he swallowed. “You're okay with this.”

“I've done it a few times,” she replied. “I'm not—it was really hard at first, but I'm kind of... I'm desensitised to it now? Sometimes, I don't even realise that my powers ran out, and I really do think she's just snoozing.”

He let out an audible breath. “You—_this_ is what you can do?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, lacking for a better response.

His eyes were wide.

“Surprise?” she uncertainly let out, close to grimacing.

His eloquent response was, “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, me, too,” she agreed. “I thought it was lame at first, but that might've been just because I played with insects at first. I mean, not that I've done anything _else_. Tami's the biggest—the most I've reanimated.”

Adrien ran a hand through his hair. “This is—Marinette, this is incredible.”

“Well, I don't know about that,” she lamely replied, self-conscious. “It's not like I can have an undead army or something. It's just—I don't want to say good-bye to Tami.”

She didn't jump as he put his hands on her shoulder, staring her in the eyes.

“You are incredible,” he whispered.

Her cheeks felt hot. “Thanks?”

“I would absolutely do the same, if I were you,” Adrien revealed, looking earnest. “I mean, I—it's... you're _amazing_.”

She almost squirmed under his gaze.

“You and Chloé are really great, aren't you?” he mused. “You're pretty much a dream-team in one package. Tami's a lucky girl.”

Beaming, she said, “Thanks.”

“I never should've guessed this at all,” Adrien said, hands falling from her shoulders, back down onto her lap. “I—I don't even know what I was thinking, to be honest. You definitely gave yourself a too low score.”

Marinette cupped her face in her hands, fluttering her eyelashes. “Do you think I'm a ten?”

He burst out into laughter. “Of course!”

“So sweet,” she cooed, only able to stop herself from laughing for a few seconds. “I'm flattered.”

“I'm the flattered one,” Adrien said. “I'm just a dude with good hearing, and I'm dating a fucking necromancer.”

She snorted. “I bet it comes in useful, though, right?”

“Sometimes,” he confirmed. “I mostly use it to snoop, so I'm really sorry for listening in to you and Chloé before.”

Caught off-guard, all she could say was, “Eh?”

“Back when I asked about her,” he clarified, sheepish. “I was listening through the door. You really weren't loud enough for me to hear normally.”

It hadn't even occurred to her that anything had been off that afternoon. If anything, she'd believed him completely when he'd mentioned it. “That's so _rude_!”

“I'm sorry!” he exclaimed, holding his hands up. “I just—I didn't want her to be mad at you because of me messing up.”

The thought was sweet, but she still had to point out, “That was a private conversation.”

“I know, I know,” Adrien said, running a hand through his hair. “I won't do it in the future, okay? I mean, that's the _only_ time I've used it to listen to you at all. I swear.”

She squinted. “So, you've been a normal boyfriend the rest of the time?”

“Well, yeah,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Not like I can use it all the time without getting a headache.”

And although she didn't fully understand, she chose to try and sympathise with him. “That sucks.”

“Thanks,” Adrien answered back. “I only use it, like, once every few weeks. It's really rare, I swear. And I don't use it in public unless I'm wearing sunglasses.”

“Because of the—” Marinette started, gesturing up to her eyes.

He grinned. “Yeah, that.”

“Can I see it?” she blurted.

“Maybe,” he said, drawing out the last vowel. “I'll think about it.”

She put a hand on his thigh. “Please?”

“After I meet your parents,” he offered. “How does that sound?”

“...Terribly unfair.”

“Maybe if you're good, then,” Adrien mused. “Or you'll just have to sweet talk me for a bit. I'm feeling lame in comparison to you right now.”

With a laugh, she answered, “That's because you are lame.”

He gasped. “My _heart_, Marinette!”

“There, there.” She patted his thigh. “I still love you.”

“I'm never showing you,” he proclaimed. “_Never_.”

She hummed. “I'm sure.”

“For real.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://xiueryn.tumblr.com) (๑꧆◡꧆๑)❤


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